


Brothers

by Night_Writer



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Writer/pseuds/Night_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Headcannon Time!<br/>Markus and Arnbjorn had grown up together in the city of Bruma, having their own adventures in the woods below the ancient Akaviri stronghold, Cloud Ruler Temple. Seventeen years of friendship is torn apart in a single night, and the two boys are flung in different directions, only to find each other a few years, and choices, later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fateful Night

_"Slow down Markus!" A gruff young voice rang out._

_The aforementioned youth came to a halt and turned to look over his shoulder at his friend, hunched over and gasping for breath. Markus turned on his heel and came to his friend's side, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder. The silver haired youth straightened to his full height, which was barely inches above his friend's head._

_"For someone with Legionnaire's for parents, I thought you'd be a little bit more calm and collected. Not this raging ball of energy." The older boy commented, slinging his arm over the younger boy's shoulder._

_"Which is exactly why I am a ball of energy. Come on, Arnbjorn. How would you react after having been stuck in your house all week studying swordsmanship with your mom?" Markus asked, head tilted in mock questioning._

_"Good point, Markus. Good point." Arnbjorn replied, running his fingers through his hair._

_The two boys took off again, dodging through the forest trees, jumping across the small stream, coating themselves in the smell of the wilderness. The sun eventually fell behind the horizon, and the two boys made the long walk back to Bruma._

_Northern Cyrodiil was beautiful to Markus. Snow coated the landscape, covering the trees in perpetual frost, while the rivers remained relatively untouched. Even the lake outside of the city remained thawed, despite the slight chill in the air. Bruma itself was an old, architectural wonder, filled to the brim with old Nordic traditions. Markus and Arnbjorn were both born here at the Great Chapel of Talos, under the care and guidance of the main healer, Aurora Sky-Fire, who was by now in her late 60's. Markus was the son of two retired Legionnaire's, who took it upon themselves to train him._

_His mother, Lielle, retired as soon as she found out that she was pregnant. But before that, she had commanded a large faction of Legion soldiers through the Great War. Of the four tours of duty that her faction served, she only ever lost five soldiers to the Aldmeri mages, which had been unheard of when you factored in the loss of life in the war as a whole._

_His father, Raddin, served with the Legion throughout the entire Great War. He always used to tell Markus that while the Aldmeri forces were strong, the Nords were stronger. He'd lost his left eye in an ambush outside of Falinesti in Valenwood while leading a caravan of troops down the border towards Woodhearth. There are still scars that cover his abdomen and left arm; burns that never quite healed properly, and memories that will always be buried in his mind._

"I'll see you tomorrow, Arnbjorn!" Markus called, waving to the older boy with a smile. Arnbjorn returned his wave and entered his house.

Markus continued to walk through the city streets. His home was as close to Castle Bruma as one could get, and it was just one of the things that Markus had gotten used to as he grew up; spending the majority of your time around royalty. Personally, he detested spending all of his free time with nobles and dignitaries, but it was expected of him to participate, seeing as who his parents were. As his house came into view, he spotted his mother outside, speaking with the head of the City Guard. As she spotted him, she quickly said goodbye to the Captain and stood to meet him.

"Hello Mother." Markus greeted, his voice standard military monotone, as his parents were accustomed to speaking.

"Markus, we're going to skip our evening practice today. The Guards are putting the city on lockdown until further notice." Lielle informed him, gently placing her hand in the center of his shoulder blades.

"Why mother?" He asked, curiosity piqued as his looked up to meet her gaze.

"Talk of Werewolves. Eira and Raxas are already inside. Now come along, the night is upon us." Lielle informed him as she closed the door behind them.

Markus knew better than to further question his mother, and so followed her willingly as they walked into the cellar. Though large, the space was claustrophobic with their excess food, arms and armor, and the extra cots that were placed against the far wall. Markus made his way over to the unclaimed cot in the corner, and plopped down onto it, arms stretched above his head as he fell back into the furs, twisting onto his side; all energy from that day now drained from his body. Lielle gazed at him, eyes softening as she took in her the demeanor of her eldest son. The poor boy had done nothing but train for days, and his one day of freedom, he's forced to be confined in the cellar of their home. Lielle walked over and sat on the edge of the cot, placing her hand gently on his back. Markus turned his head so that he could looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Markus... I know that we've been hard on you, Eira and Raxas, but we only do so for your benefit. The swordsmanship, the studying, the hours spent studying with the mages, all of it is to prepare the three of you for the world outside of Bruma." Lielle explains as Markus sits back up on the cot, shrinking into her side.

"I know mother." He whispers, "But... I need free time. I need to be able to go out and explore around the city, to be with the other boys and just goof around. I miss being able to do that." Markus mumbles, looking down at his feet as he speaks.

Lielle's eyes soften as she looks down at her son, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. She looks up and locks eyes with Raddin, who smiles and nods at her before returning his attention to Eira, who was practicing a rather intricate healing spell on the wound that he had inflicted on his calve for her to practice on. Raxas continues to hack into the practice dummy that stands stationary in the far corner from the cots. As Lielle is about to speak again, a low, guttural howl echos through the cellar. Raddin jumps to kill the flame that glows from the torch, sword drawn in case one of the beasts breaks into their home in search of food or flesh. The children huddle together; ten-year-old Raxas holds his wooden sword close to his body, fifteen-year-old Eira has a spell ringing in her head, ready to let loose a storm of lightning bolts should one of the werewolves attempt to enter, and seventeen-year-old Markus pulls a silver dagger from his boot, knowing full well that silver is a werewolf's weakness. Raddin and Lielle stand facing the entrance to the cellar with weapons drawn before them.

The sounds of claws tapping above them alerts the family of an intrusion, and Raddin quickly checks that the cellar lock is firmly in place before he breathes a soft sigh, but the growling above their heads tells them that their visitor will be here for quite some time.

"Quickly! One of them is in Commander Raddin's home!" A man cries out, as they hear the door being shoved open and the sounds of ferocious roars and war cries. Markus hears one of the poor men scream out in pain before a loud thud echos in the cellar. Raxas almost cries out at the sound, but he holds his sword closer to him instead. Markus wraps his arm securely around Raxas' shoulder, slightly easing the young boy's nerves before he stands in front of him. Lielle stands closer to the children, and Markus stands at her side, both of them staring at the cellar doors just over Raddin's shoulder. In moments, fervent scratching could be heard against the wooden frame of the cellar doors, and everyone was immediately on their toes as the scratching turned into ramming while the beast tried to break the doors down.

"There it is! Archers!" A voice rang out, followed by several sets of footsteps.

Markus listened intently as the sound of bows loosing their arrows rang out, followed by the thunk of tips meeting flesh, and then the slam of a heavy body upon the floor, signaling the inevitable death of the werewolf.

"Check the body. Make sure it's dead." The same voice called again, followed by a single set of footfalls.

"Sir, it's reverting back to it's human form. It's certainly dead." A younger voice replied.

"Commander Raddin, sir, it's safe for the time being, but please keep your family in the cellar until the moon passes." The older voice called out, tapping the cellar doors.

"It was my intention all along, Captain Rigel." Raddin replied, giving the door two taps before walking away from it. Markus let out the breath that he was unaware he was holding, and Lielle put her hand on his shoulder.

"Seventeen seasons, and you were already prepared to give your life in exchange for your family. You'll make a great husband and father some day, Markus." She remarked, a smile gracing her lips.

Markus couldn't help the smile that followed hers, and he relished in the affection that his mother had given him. With a ruffle of his hair, Lielle made her way over to Raxas to soothe the poor boy's nerves. All of the swordsmanship in Tamriel wasn't going to change the fact that he was merely ten and already looking death in the eyes. The adrenaline was leaving his body, and Markus was soon lying down in his cot, looking out at his family. Raxas had gone back to sword training, taking direction from their mother, and Eira was once again practicing her healing spells. Markus sighed in content, closing his eyes as the moons pass slowly across the night sky.  
\----------------------------  
When he wakes, the cellar is empty aside from himself, and with urgency, Markus bolts up the stairs. Before he even touches the landing, Lielle catches him in her arms, pulling him close to her chest. He squirms for a moment, then settles, looking into her eyes.

"I know that you are in your seventeenth season, but I do not want you to see death yet, my son." She whispers, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

Markus immediately stops moving, and slowly wraps his arms around Lielle's waist, holding tightly to his mother. She reciprocates his grasp, and the two of them stand in silence until the front door closes. Only then does she allow Markus to turn fully around. Raddin is standing in the entryway, arms crossed tightly across his body, eyes glaring daggers at the door. Finally, a sigh escapes his lips, and he turns to face his family, eyes locking onto each member.

"Well... The werewolf that they executed was a very close friend of ours. Markus, the werewolf was Arnbjorn's father, Tharsten." Raddin explained as he walked over and took Markus' shoulders in his hands. The younger Nord felt his heart clench painfully in his chest as he looked into his father's eyes.

"They're going to kick him and his mother out of the city, aren't they." Markus mumbled, more of a demand rather than a question.

"Yes. You'll want to say your goodbyes before they set off. They will never be allowed to return to Bruma." Raddin replies, his head dipping just slightly to catch Markus' eyes.

Without another word, Markus makes his way out of the front door, running full speed to Arnbjorn's house, coming up upon several armed guards ready to escort the two remaining members of the small family out of the city. Markus stood in wait, heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Arnbjorn to come out of his home. Once he did, knapsack slung over his shoulder, Markus walked up to match him step for step, following his best friend out of the city. The gates slammed shut behind them, and Arnbjorn turned to Markus with a heartbroken gaze. He wrapped his arms around Markus.

"I guess this is goodbye, my friend." He mumbles as he pulls away from Markus.

"No. This is more of a 'see you later'." Markus replies, gently punching Arnbjorn on the shoulder.

Arnbjorn chuckles for a moment, and then his face becomes as serious as Raddin's. He takes Markus by the arm and walks further down the path as his mother, Aeta, follows a length behind the two boys. Once Arnbjorn is comfortable with the short distance, he begins to speak.

"My father wasn't the only one out last night." He whispers, matching Markus stride for stride.

"Who else was out there?" Markus questions, turning his head to look at Arnbjorn. He notices a scar on the side of his face that hadn't been their previously.

"I was..." Arnbjorn whispers, "I was with my father up until he entered your house. I made it out of the city to hunt, but he became trapped when the guards came rushing out of the barracks." He explains, kicking a stone with his boot as he walks.

"Then you're a werewolf as well." Markus mumbles as he breaks his gaze to focus on the path before them. They are heading towards the Jerall Mountains.

"Yes. I have been blessed by Hircine himself through my father. I can shift with the moons, and at will. And I can pass the gift on to others as well, if they are willing to take it." Arnbjorn explains as he continues down the path. Markus stops walking, and Arnbjorn turns his head to look at his friend.

"You're saying that you can make others werewolves as well?" He asks, eyes trained on his friend.

"If you'd like the gift, I can give it to you." Arnbjorn replies, eyes locked on Markus.

Markus stands in the middle of the path, eyes drifting between Arnbjorn and the peaks of the mountains, mind racing with questions and decisions that he has to make. He could receive the wolf gift from Arnbjorn, but then he'd lose his entire family in the process, and be chased out into the wilds of Cyrodil. He could decline the offer, and possibly lose his best friend forever, all because he doesn't want to become a werewolf. His head spins, and he falls to his knees at the sudden dizziness. Arnbjorn is at his side in mere moments, gently fanning Markus' flushed face. After a few more moments on silence, Markus reaches out for Arnbjorn, who gently pulls him to his feet, and he gazes up at his friend.

"Arnbjorn... I don't want to lose our friendship... But I can't accept." Markus whispers as he gazes at Arnbjorn's face.

"I understand, and I don't want us to drift apart either. I promise that I will send a letter once mother and I have settled." Arnbjorn replies, with just a hint of dejection in his voice, but he smiles nonetheless. This a decision that Markus has made for himself, and he can accept that.

"Markus, dear, why don't you head back to Bruma. I can only imagine that your parents are preparing to come find you, especially after what happened." Aeta calls as she comes up to the two boys.

"Yea... I should head back. Please send me a letter once you've settled." Markus pleads, looking between Arnbjorn and Aeta.

"We will, dear. Now, hurry back before you're missed." Aeta asserted before she placed a soft peck to his cheek. "Thank you for being such a wonderful friend to Arnbjorn. It means so much to me, and I know it meant a lot to Tharsten as well. Keep your strength up, eat healthy, and perhaps we'll see each other again in the future." She continued before she turned towards the mountains once more.

Arnbjorn nodded his head, eyes locked with Markus, who returned the silent gesture. They didn't need words to convey how they were feeling at that moment. Both boys had grown up together for years, and were practically raised together. Each boy could feel his heart shattering at their loss. With a final glance, Arnbjorn turned to catch up to his mother, gazing over his shoulder once more to wave a final goodbye to his brother and friend. Markus waved until he could no longer see them on the path, and slowly lowered his hand to his side, fist clenched until his nails dug painfully into his palm. Moments later, his mother came galloping up behind him on Stormstrider, but Markus refused to pull his gaze from the horizon. He heard his mother dismount and walk up to his side.

"Come, Markus, it's getting late and you're going to catch a cold if you stay here." Lielle chided before she gently wrapped her arm over his shoulders.

"He's my best friend... And now he's gone..." Markus whispered, finally folding into his mother's side.

"There, there... Hush now, Markus. In due time, you will leave for your own life, and perhaps the two of you will find each other again. Friends always do." Lielle whispered, gently running her fingers through her son's hair before leading him to Stormstrider.

The two of them rode back in silence, and Markus turned to look behind him every few minutes to gaze down the path as the sun slowly drifted below the horizon. As soon as they reached the stables, the sound of howling reached their ears, and Markus knew that, one day, he'd be able to find Arnbjorn and Aeta again.


	2. Joining the Companions

Skyrim was nothing that he'd ever seen before, and Markus grinned at the chance to see this land as a whole. Pushing Blackthorn, Markus strode past the city of Windhelm, following the signs pointing towards Whiterun. Raddin had told him stories of Ysgramor's 500 Companions, and with a powerful sword arm of his own, Markus had hopes of joining the legendary warriors when he set out on his own. He was slightly older now, at twenty-three turns of the seasons, and had set out from Bruma nearly two weeks ago. The Jerall Mountains had been quite the experience, and with it's treacherous cliffs and drop offs, he'd certainly had to put all of his survival training to the test. And thank the Divines he'd actually paid attention when his father had been training him, not to mention his mentors at the Bruma Fighter's Guild. He'd seen his sister, Eira, off to her training at the Mage's Guild before he'd embarked on his travels, and Raxas to the Fighter's Guild, where Markus knew his younger brother would become a powerful warrior.

He walked along old cobblestone roads, following broken trees and heavy rivers. When he passed beneath a giant mountain, and crossed over the roaring river, he laid eyes upon his first giant, which was being attacked by three warriors. Drawing his sword, Markus ran towards the commotion, taking the opportunity to lodge his sword deeply into the skull of the giant once it was brought down to a knee. As the great body fell to the side, Markus withdrew his sword and sheathed it before turning to look at the small band of people behind him. One of the two women approached him, brushing her wild, fire red hair back from her face.

"You handle yourself pretty well. I think you'd make a fine Shield-Brother, wouldn't you agree, Farkas?" She asks, looking over her shoulder to the lone male of their small band.

"He's got potential, but that's for Kodlak to decide." He replies, sheathing his broadsword.

"Hmm. Why don't you come to Jorrvaskr, let the old man judge you for himself." She offers, looking into his blue eyes.

Before Markus can utter a response, she turns on her heel with a smile, passing by the other two members of their brigade. Markus shakes his head slightly before moving to catch up with her. As soon as he matches her stride, he speaks.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but who are you?" He asks, right hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"I am Aela, of the Companions. The two behind us are Farkas, who is one of our seasoned members, and Ria, our newest recruit." Aela explains, tilting her head to look up into his eyes.

"The Companions? As in Ysgramor's 500?" Markus asks, a smile tugging slightly at his lips.

"Of course. We're just a faction now, but we are still the Companions." She chuckles, "For an outsider, how do you know so much about us?" She questioned, eyes once more focused on the path before them.

"My father. He was once a commander for the Legion, and traveled all over Tamriel. Found himself in Skyrim a few different times, but never stayed in most cities longer than a week. Until he came to Whiterun. He said that you could never mistake it, a vast, open city right beneath the tallest mountain he'd ever seen. And sitting just below the Jarl's castle was Jorrvaskr, the mead hall that housed Ysgramor's finest, and still does today." Markus prattled on as Aela listened intently.

"You do know quite a bit about us. Who was your father?" She questioned, having seen many faces pass through during the years.

"Raddin. He's an older Nord with black hair and blue eyes. His left eye was lost in an ambush in Valenwood, and his left arm and abdomen are still covered with burn scars that never did heal properly. But, he's still an excellent teacher, and a powerful warrior." Markus explained, turning his head to glance at Aela.

As she listened, Aela had a memory flash in her head. A tall, strong built Nord with deep black hair and one blue eye stood in the entryway of Jorrvaskr, talking with Vignar and Kodlak about Jorrvaskr's history and Ysgramor's 500. She was leaving that night on a quest, and had never been able to meet the older man, but she'd heard his name as she was walking out of the front doors.

"I saw him briefly. A sturdy man, probably capable of taking on an army by himself." Aela commented as the image faded away, and she was once again glancing at Markus, thinking of how much he looked like his father.

"He likes to claim he can." Markus chuckled, picturing his father taking on a horde of Aldmeri foot soldiers.

"Well, if you intend to make Skyrim your home, and you are set upon joining our ranks, then speak with Kodlak. The old man will determine if your heart is strong enough to join ours." Aela commented as the four of them came upon the doors of Jorrvaskr.

"This is Jorrvaskr?" Markus gaped, gazing upon the old Nordic building, taking in the intricate carvings that lined the doorway. Aela chuckled as she came to stand beside him.

"The door isn't going to let you join, you know. Come. I'll bring you to Kodlak." She spoke, pulling the younger Nord through the entrance.

As they walked through the entrance, Markus felt his mouth water at the heavy smell of wild boar cooking over the fire. He'd last eaten a real meal three days prior, still up in the mountains, before deciding to ration off and sustain himself with berries, nuts, and small game.

"Picking up more whelps, Aela?" A deep, gruff voice asked, causing Markus to twist his head forward, locking eyes with a new man he hadn't seen yet.

"This one knows quite a bit about us, Skjor. I'm sure he'd make a decent member of the Companions." Aela commented as she continued to walk towards the stairwell. Skjor just looked Markus up and down before he spoke once more.

"I trust Aela's judgment, pup, but Kodlak is the one you'll have to impress around here." Skjor commented before he walked over to the sounds of a scuffle breaking out between other members.

Markus, feeling slightly put off by Skjor's demeanor, merely brushed the older man's words off and followed after Aela. He caught up to her as she was walking through the doorway leading to the lower level of the building.

"This is the bunk area. Once you're actually sworn in, you'll sleep down here with the rest of the new members." Aela said, pointing to the first doorway across from where they stood. "The members of the Circle, which are Farkas, Vilkas, Skjor and myself, all sleep in the rooms closest to Kodlak, who occupies the room at the far end of the hall. Now, I won't keep you. Go ahead and talk with the old man, I'll be upstairs waiting." Aela whispered, gently shoving him forwards before turning around to walk back upstairs.

With well practiced patience, Markus calmed his heart, took a deep breath, and made the short walk down towards Kodlak's room. As he got closer, he noticed another man sitting in the room with him, and he looked oddly like Farkas, and he placed Vilkas as his name. As he got closer still, he noticed that they're words got quieter and quieter until they stopped all together, both men turning to look as he walked through the doorway.

"Well, what have we here?" Kodlak asked as he eyed Markus head to toe.

"My name is Markus, and I'd like to join the Companions." Markus replied, his voice taking on the same air of command that his parents had.

"Well now, would you? Here, let me take a good look at you, son." Kodlak replied as he stood up and faced Markus.

Aged gray eyes trailed over Markus, taking in his scruffy black hair, bright blue eyes that have seen death, toned arms that have carried a sword and shield for many years, and legs that have been shaped by years of travel. With a final glance over, Kodlak smiled before turning to face Vilkas.

"You've certainly got the heart, but have you got the strength? We shall see. Vilkas here will test your sword arm." Kodlak spoke as he nodded to Vilkas.

With a stubborn sigh, Vilkas muttered an "Aye" and stood from the chair, brushing past Markus back towards the main level. Markus followed behind as the two men made their way outside to the training ground. Vilkas stood at one end of the sparring ground, and Markus took up arms at the other.

"The old man wants me to test your arm, so hit me with all you have. And don't worry, you aren't going to hurt me." Vilkas shouted, sword drawn.

Markus nodded his head, and within moments, the two of them had closed the gap between them and began to swing their swords in every direction. Vilkas, Markus took note, liked to swing in from the sides, intending to catch him at the hips. Markus took this into practice, and within a few more swings, had found his opening. As soon as Vilkas swung his sword, Markus dropped below the blade and, with a quickness not unknown to him, he flipped Vilkas onto his back and pointed his sword at his throat. With a chuckle, Vilkas smirked and pushed Markus' sword off to the side.

"Not bad. Not bad at all. That was very perceptive of you, following my moves in such a way. Sure, I'll tell the old man about you. You did well. Now, I do need you to do me a favor." Vilkas began, picking his sword up off of the ground.

"Sure. What is it?" Markus asked, before Vilkas thrust his sword into his hands.

"Run this up to Eorlund. He runs the Skyforge, and I need it mended before I head out tonight. And be careful with that, it's probably worth more than your life." Vilkas chuckled as he headed back inside Jorrvaskr.

With a huff of annoyance, Markus begrudgingly brought the sword up the small hill to the massive forge that sat atop it. At the grindstone was an older man with gray hair and aged eyes. With a nod of greeting from the man, Markus walked over.

"What can I do for you lad?" The older man asked, wiping his hands off on his leather armor.

"I'm here with Vilkas' sword. Said he needed it mended before tonight." Markus replied, holding the hilt of the sword out to Eorlund.

"I take it you're the newcomer?" He asks, taking the hilt of the sword in his hand and letting Markus pull his hand away.

"So I'm told, but does Vilkas always make the newcomers run errands for him?" Markus asked, slightly annoyed that he was running errands like a servant.

"Don't take it personally, lad. They were all whelps once, they just don't like talking about it. Just remember, no one rules anybody in the Companions, not even Kodlak. He provides counsel over the group, but he doesn't actually dictate what they do every day." Eorlund explains, easing Markus' confusion.

"Well, at least that's a bit of good news. I suppose I should head back down." Markus motions towards Jorrvaskr.

"Before you do, would you mind doing me a favor?" Eorlund asks as he places Vilkas' sword at the edge of the Skyforge.

"Sure, what can I do for you?" Markus asks as he turns to face Eorlund again.

"I've been making a shield for Aela. My wife is currently in mourning, and I need to get home to her. Would you bring this back to Aela for me?" Eorlund asks, holding a beautifully crafted steel shield out in his hands.

"Not a problem Eorlund." Markus replies with a smile, taking the shield and strapping it to his left forearm. With a swift nod, he turns and heads back down the hill and through the doors of Jorrvaskr.

Without wasting anytime, he quickly scans the main floor for Aela's unmistakeable red locks, but doesn't find her. He then heads down the stairwell and back towards Kodlak's room, turning left where the hallway breaks through the foundation. He hears her voice behind the door on his left, and knocks to announce his presence.

"Come in." She calls, and he opens the door, coming eye to eye with Aela and Skjor.

"I have your shield from Eorlund." Markus states, detaching the aforementioned object from his arm.

"Ah. I've been waiting for this." Aela replied, taking the shield from his hands and attaching it to her own forearm.

"So, it seems that you sparred with Vilkas in the yard." Skjor comments as he looks at Markus with a genuine smile.

"Ah, yes, I heard you gave him quite a thrashing." Aela interjected, arms crossed before her chest as she, too, smiled at Markus.

"Don't let Vilkas hear you say that." Skjor chided, giving Aela an amused smile.

"So, I take it the old man thinks you've got the heart for the Companions. Well done. You remember where the bunks are, so go ahead and fall into one. Rest up before we start giving you some tasks around Whiterun." Aela comments with a smile as she looks at Markus.

Worn from his travels, Markus can only nod in response, and slowly trudges down the hallway to the bunk room. He picks the last bed in the corner and tucks himself under the furs. Within minutes, he falls into a deep sleep.


	3. An Assassin and Her Werewolf

Blood drips from the snarling maw, and it's the last thing the bandit sees before dagger sharp canines drive themselves into his throat. Feeling for other life around him, yet finding none, the large werewolf shifts back into his human form. Black coat reverting back to flesh and silver hair, golden eyes becoming brown once again. With a heavy heart, the young man walks the short distance between himself and the corpse of a woman, and kneels at her side, taking her hand in his.

“I'm sorry... Mother...” He whispers, taking in the calm look on her face, though she is now cold and lifeless. “If only I had been faster.” He continues, tucking her stray gray hairs behind her ears.

Silently, he lifts her body into his arms and makes his way back to their home, where he burns her body on a funeral pyre, staring as her body becomes ashes before him. Before the wind can claim her, he gathers her ashes into a jar and brings it inside, tucking it safely into his previously packed knapsack. Hoisting it to his shoulder, he sets out the front door, but comes face to face with another woman, whom he's never seen before. Startled, his eyes shift to their golden color, and he snarls at her.

“What do you want?!” He demands, nails beginning to grow with his anger and heartbreak.

“Well, to recruit you, of course.” She replies, her voice smooth as honey.

His transformation stops, and he just stares at her, so she begins to speak again.

“My name is Astrid, and I have recently taken over command of a faction of the Dark Brotherhood. We're assassins, if you've never heard of us.” She explains, taking in the look of minor disinterest on the young man's face.

“Of course I've heard of you. They found a sanctuary a few years back in Bravil. There was also another one that was hidden beneath an abandoned house in Cheydinhal, but the guard found it and burned it to the ground, killing at least three of your members.” The young man explained, recounting the two sanctuaries that he knew of.

“Yes. And that's why I'm here. We're in need of new members, and with a power like yours, well, you fit it just fine.” Astrid commented, “What's your name, silver mane?” She asks, taking hold of a strand of silver hair and running her finger down it.

“Arnbjorn.” He replies, reaching up to pull her hand from his hair.

“I have a feeling that we're going to be on very good terms, Arnbjorn.” Astrid chuckles, pulling her hand away from his. “When you're ready to take the next step, come find our sanctuary in Falkreath. When the door asks you, 'What is the music of life', Silence, my brother, is the answer.” She continues as she begins walking away.

“By the way, what you did back there? Exquisite work. I've never seen quite so much blood.” She calls out before disappearing into the fog that surrounds the marsh.

Arnbjorn huffs in annoyance, but then a thought strikes him. He hadn't felt any remorse for killing those men, bandits or not. The only remorse he felt was for his mother. He shook his head, realizing that, if they were to find each other again, Markus would never get to see Aeta ever again. His blood began to boil, and his fangs began to throb painfully in his gums, but he clamped his jaw tight, vowing to avenge his mother in the only way he now knew: killing.

\---------------------------------

The journey to Falkreath took time and patience, and though he felt the urge to kill as he passed by bandit hideouts, he kept himself calm and collected, choosing to dig his claws into the palms of his hands instead. As he passed the gates to Falkreath, he felt like he was truly going home. Although he was alone now, and this was as far from Bruma as could be, he couldn't help the feeling of wholeness that enveloped him as he took a right onto an overgrown trail. There, he came upon a nearly black pond, and to the left of that, a Black Door. Stepping up to the huge barrier, he slowly touched the surface of the skull with his hand.

“What... Is the music... Of life?” A raspy voice strains as Arnbjorn looks on.

“Silence, my brother.” He replies, removing his hand from the skull.

“Welcome... Home...” The voice echos as the door pushes itself in, allowing Arnbjorn access to the sanctuary within.

He descends the stairwell and turns right, spotting Astrid leaning against the wall at the top of the next set of stairs. She is looking out over a small band of individuals: a wizard, a Dark Elf, a Redguard, an Argonian, and... A child? Before he can process the sight he's just seen, Astrid has turned to look at him, and is now walking towards him.

“Welcome to the cozy little family.” She speaks, and to him, her voice has a different tone.

“The child...” He mumbles, looking at the small brunette girl standing near the small pond in the center of the sanctuary.

“Ahh, that's Babette. She's a vampire.” She informs him, never taking her eyes off of him, though he is distracted by his new surroundings. “Now, I assume that you'd like to rest. The rooms are located on either side of the pond, feel free to find any bed to sleep in. When you're ready, why don't you mingle with your new family.” She comments as he nods before walking off to the nearby rooms. Choosing a room that is both quiet, and unclaimed, he settles in relatively easily, unpacking his few meager belongings from his knapsack, though choosing to leave Aeta's ashes for another day; he'd much rather not be reminded that they are all he has left of her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stores away a small, worn leather journal that he'd kept with him since they were evicted from Bruma. His chest clenches at the thought of his old life, and how a single, miscalculated night ruined everything. While he held no ill-will for Markus' family, the guard were the ones that would pay eventually. He remembered the Captain, and in time, he would end him. So deeply rooted in his thoughts, and with the full moon upon him, Arnbjorn did not notice the figure standing in his doorway.

“I thought you might want these. They're your uniform, should you choose to wear it.” Astrid's voice broke through the haze in his mind. So soft and delicate. He lifted his head and stared at her with golden eyes.

She swallowed the small lump in her throat before making to move towards him. He was the first werewolf she'd met, let alone invited to stay in such close proximity of her family, and in all honesty, he was rather frightening when there was no reason to shift. She gently placed the outfit on the end table next to his bed, but before she could pull her hands away, he had taken her wrists in his grip. Biting her tongue to hold back her yelp of surprise, she looked down into his eyes.

“Astrid...” He whispered, gazing up at her with a love she had not seen before.

“Arnbjorn... What is it that you request of me?” She asked, sitting on the bed next to him.

“I came to this land with only my mother and memories. And now, I am alone...” He whispers, staring down at the floor, refusing to meet her eyes, “There is an emptiness that I need to have filled, and I feel so at ease just in your presence...” He continues, finally looking up to meet her eyes.

“Arnbjorn... We've just met, and already you claim such things. Give it time and maybe I will let you in, but I cannot right now.” She mumbles, taking her hands from his and folding them in her lap.

“Let me change the way you think, Astrid. Let me in.” He tries, brushing a strand of blonde hair from the side of her face.

She turns her head and looks at him, and sees the pain that is etched into his eyes. A family torn apart by either blessing or curse, depending upon how one viewed lycanthropy granted by Hircine himself. She sighs, and stands from the bed, moving towards the doorway. She stops, and tentatively looks over her shoulder.

“Find me later tonight. With that enhanced sense of smell, it shouldn't be hard to seek me out.” She whispers before leaving him alone with his thoughts. He doesn't leave his room until nightfall.

\----------------------------

Stepping out into the cool night, Arnbjorn feels his wolf spirit trying to break free, and he lets it. Within a few painful moments, he has shifted into his werewolf form, and is running full speed through the woods, golden eyes scanning every shadow for danger and prey. The first deer he finds makes easy prey, and his wolf feasts heavily on the blood, muscle and flesh, ripping the animal to shreds before a new scent reaches his nose. Black nostrils flare as he tracks the scent to a large clearing that overlooks Lake Ilinalta. He gazes around, golden eyes searching the darkness for the scent, and then looks to the trees, where he sees a petite figure with golden hair. Rising to his hind legs, he walks to the base of the tree and scratches it with razor sharp claws. The figure looks down at him, and the human side of his brain immediately recognizes Astrid's eyes. Immediately, he pulls his wolf back and regains his human form; Astrid jumps down from the tree branch and lands gracefully beside him.

“So this is where you were hiding... It's beautiful.” Arnbjorn comments, taking in the silence and the view of the lake.

“Yes, it is...” Astrid whispers as she moves to sit at the edge of a small ledge hanging over the water. Arnbjorn sits beside her.

They sit together in silence, watching the moons shifting across the sky, a few fish breaching the surface of the lake to catch dragonflies, and the auroras dancing across the darkness, bathing the land in a light that Arnbjorn never experienced in Cyrodiil. He is taken aback by such serenity that he almost forgets about his companion, until she places her hand over his. He turns to look at her, a smile on his face, before turning to look back over the lake.

“Arnbjorn... Did you really mean what you said to me?” She asks, her voice completely calm. Arnbjorn turns to look at her.

“Of course I did. I wouldn't have said it otherwise.” He replies, eyes boring into hers, “That's the thing about werewolves. We're completely honest with everything that we say and do.” He concludes, lifting her chin with his finger.

She gazes at him, taking in his words and his expression. She'd never had a man be so sincere with her before, and she'd killed the last man that had made an unwanted advance on her when she was barely in her sixteenth year. She looked at him, deeper still, and found that she held such a strong urge to love him in the way that she, herself, wanted to be loved. Without a second thought, she kissed him deeply, passionately, until she needed air once again. Looking into his eyes, she found a new feeling. Hunger, raw and hot, gazed back at her. Immediately, she felt herself drawn into the heat of his eyes, and straddled his hips, shoving him back down onto the ground, melting her lips to his in a mess of passion and burning desire.

Dawn found the two of them completely wrapped around each other, naked and still covered in sweat from such a heated session of lovemaking. Arnbjorn gazed out and took in the beauty of the lake before turning to look back at the beauty that was curled up against his side. Astrid looked up at him with a smile, kissing him once more before she stood and stretched.

“Care for a dip in the lake?” She asked, turning to look at him with a smile.

“Well, I'm much fonder of the view before me.” He replied, gazing up at her bare body, coated in a thin layer of dried dirt and grass.

“Come on, before we have to go back to the sanctuary.” She pleaded, almost begging him to swim with her.

“Fine. You win, my star.” He replied, pulling himself up off of the ground. He was met with a kiss before she pulled him into the cool lake waters.

\----------------------------

When the two of them returned to the sanctuary, it was absolutely silent, and the two of them were surprised to see that none of the other members had even woken yet. Arnbjorn quickly pecked Astrid on the lips before excusing himself to his room. As he sat on his bed, he pulled his old journal from the bedside table and began to write an overdue letter.

_Markus,_

_Old friend, it's been quite some time since we last conversed. A meeting of friends is long overdue. I pray this letter finds you well, and that you have established yourself well, wherever you are now. I have no doubt that you have found your way out of Bruma, though I feel on much better terms than I did._  
Which brings me to my next point. Mother, Aeta, is no longer of this world. Bandits attacked us on the road. They killed her, I lost control of the wolf, and I slaughtered them. I slaughtered all of them. There was so much blood, and yet, I felt no remorse.  
Though, I feel that we should meet in a nearby town. If ever you find yourself out towards Falkreath, perhaps the two of us could meet up in Helgen, having a pint between friends. 

_With regards,_

_Arnbjorn_

He read the letter over twice before finally feeling satisfied with the wording. Sealing it, he walked back out into the main hall of the sanctuary, walking past Astrid's room and finding her asleep, before making his way out to Falkreath. Finding a courier was easy, and with a few septims, he knew his letter would find it's intended audience.

It had been nearly eight years since he'd seen his childhood friend. He hoped that he was well, and that he had settled somewhere that he fit in. Who knew, he probably had a family of his own now. Arnbjorn hoped that he would be able to meet them one day.


	4. Attack on Helgen

“I've been looking for you. Got something to deliver, your hands only. Let's see here... A letter, said he was a friend of yours. Well, that's it, I'll be going.” The courier said, handing Markus a sealed letter before turning on his heel and leaving the steps of Jorrvaskr.

Markus held the letter in his hands, turning it over to gaze at the seal. A wolf head, much like the symbol the Companions used for official documents, but somewhat different. The image of a hand in the background of the seal was the only thing that separated the two symbols. Markus slowly made his way back into Jorrvaskr, breaking the seal on the letter as he made his way down the steps to the living area.

As he read the letter, he stopped in the middle of the hallway, gazing dumbstruck at the signed name below. Markus felt a hand rest softly on his shoulder, pulling his gaze from the letter in his hands.

“What is it, love?” Aela asked, coming to stand beside him.

“An old friend I haven't heard from in years. Says he wants to meet in Helgen and catch up on our lost years.” Markus replied, handing the letter off to his wife.

“So why don't you go?” She asked as she read the letter.

“It's been years, my love. Besides, we've just settled in at Breezehome, and I'm already taking on more jobs than should be necessary.” Markus explained, as if Aela didn't already know this.

“Love, take a few days and meet with him. I'm not going anywhere, and I don't expect Jorrvaskr to burn down while you're gone. It'll be fine.” Aela chided, eyes locked with her husband's. Markus sighed, defeated.

“Fine, she-wolf. I'll go.” He conceded, taking the letter from her hand. She smirked and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

“Have some fun. The hunt will still continue.” She whispered, taking his hand in hers.

He squeezed her hand and allowed her to lead him down to her room. He sat at the small desk in the corner and found some rolled up parchment and a quill, and while Aela sat by on her bed, he began to write a letter back to Arnbjorn.

Arnbjorn,

It's good to hear from you my friend. A pint of mead in Helgen sounds like a perfect way for us to come together again.

We have much to catch up on, old friend, and I anticipate our first meeting in a long while.

With regards,

Markus

With careful practice, Markus folded the letter and sealed it, setting it aside to be delivered later when they returned to Breezehome. Leaning back in the chair, Markus sighed and closed his eyes, head tilted over the back of the chair. Feeling warm air above him, he cracked one eye open and looked up to Aela's confused expression. He readjusted himself and slowly stood from the chair, turned to face her, and then gently gathered her in his embrace. Tilting her head, Aela gently kissed Markus, hands placed gently on his cheeks.

“My love, why do you hesitate?” She questioned, forcing him to look into her eyes. He sighed heavily.

“It's been years, my she-wolf, and he's far from the young man that I knew back in Bruma.” He replied, taking her hands in his own.

“Is that any way to judge someone that you knew so well?” She chided, brow knitted in confusion.

“Aela... Love, you didn't know Arnbjorn like I did.” He continued, letting go of her hands and turning back to the desk. “He's changed.”

“But so have you. You both have taken different directions in your lives. Perhaps this could be a way for the two of you to reconcile on the past.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around his figure, hands resting on his chest.

Markus twisted around and pulled her in again, kissing her forehead. He looked into her eyes, and she knew then and there that he would make the trip to Helgen, regardless of if he wanted to or not. She had won this round, and he knew it. The two of them pulled apart, but remained close as they made their way back to Breezehome for the evening.  
\-------------------------------------------------------

A week later, Markus was making his way to Helgen, passing through the wilderness on foot gave him time to think. Time to formulate questions for Arnbjorn. Crossing through the gate entrance, Markus took in his surroundings. Helgen was a rather small town, encased within it's stone walls, and Markus found his way to the local tavern with no issues. Stepping into the small building, he took a spot near the corner and waited, accepting a pint of mead from the bar maid. As he drank from the pint, the door opened once more, and he looked up. Standing in the doorway was a beast of a man with silver hair and a battle ax strapped to his back. His feet were bare, and his attire was a black and red montage covering his person. Markus stared at the newcomer, and as the sunlight receded behind the closing door, he noticed the man's golden eyes. The same eyes he gazed into when he was seventeen. He stood then, and the silver haired man turned his head towards him.

“Arnbjorn.” Markus breathed, taking in the sight of his friend once more.

“Markus. It's been too long.” Arnbjorn replied, coming to greet his friend. As soon as he was within a whisper of Markus, he stopped. “Ah... So you've taken the gift.” He mumbled, taking the seat opposite Markus.

“I have. As part of my initiation.” Markus replied.

“Initiation? Then you've joined the Companions. I take it you trained with the Fighter's Guild in Bruma then.” Arnbjorn commented, taking an offered mug of mead from the bar maid as she made her rounds.

“I did, and of course it was my mother's idea.” Markus remembered, the memory of Lielle forcing him through the doors to begin his training after she had taught him what she could.

“Lielle was always one step ahead of you. She practically had your whole life prepped before you were born.” Arnbjorn chuckles, remembering the war hardened woman and her equally powerful husband.

“Yes, and let's not forget that she prepped Eira for the Mage's Guild, and Raxas to follow me through the Fighter's Guild.” Markus listed off, believing in his heart that his siblings have made greater strides than he did.

“Seems I've missed out on a lot.” Arnbjorn mumbled, remembering Eira and Raxas, now taking the steps towards their own futures.

“And so have I. Who is she?” Markus asked, a smile creeping across his face. Arnbjorn was thankful for the dimly lit tavern, but he knew that Markus could see his face reddening.

“Her name is Astrid. She leads the Brotherhood near Falkreath.” Arnbjorn whispers, just loud enough for Markus to pick up above the rabble. “But who has your heart committed to my friend?” He asks with a knowing smile.

“Aela of the Companions. She was my forbear, and I've only had eyes for her ever since.” Markus replied, leaning back in his chair as he gazed over at Arnbjorn.

“Any pups of your own yet?” Arnbjorn questions, looking at his friend.

“Yes, we have a son together. His name is Dengen, and he's almost a year old.” Markus explained, his tone happier now that he was talking about his son. “What about you, Arnbjorn?”

“None yet. Though, I do hope that Astrid and I can bring our own pup into the world one day.” Arnbjorn comments, though his voice is slightly hallow at the mention of children of his own.

He knows his line of work is too dangerous for a child, especially one born to a werewolf and an assassin. And yet, his heart pangs for the presence of a child that is a mixture of Astrid and himself. He contemplates the repercussions, and he knows that it is completely unsafe for them, but he makes a plan to speak with Astrid when he returns to the Sanctuary. The two of them continue to talk well into the night, and rent rooms for the remainder of the evening.  
\-------------------------------------------------

Dawn finds the duo well rested and ready to face the day, if it wasn't for the two horse-drawn carts carrying Stormcloak prisoners. Markus and Arnbjorn watched as the carriages passed by the front of the tavern, before they both stepped to the other side of the road. Markus looked over to Arnbjorn.

“Well, may as well stick around.” Markus comments, eyes locked on the men and women that step off of the backs of the carriages.

“Yes. I think things are about to get a little interesting.” Arnbjorn replies with a smirk on his face.

The group of prisoners are called over to the chopping block; arms bound, backs rigid and still, soldiers that vowed to die with pride and dignity. Markus found the appearance to be a remarkable testament to the cage that the soldiers were being held in, and he felt a small pang of guilt for having not joined the Legion like his father before him. No matter, he gently shook the thought from his head and focused on the gathered soldiers. A low roar echoed in the distance, and his ears perked up at the sound. With wide eyes, he turned to Arnbjorn, who was also glancing at him as well.

“You heard it too.” Markus commented, more of a question than a statement.

“I did. Didn't sound like a bear to me.” Arnbjorn replied, voice low and deep, eyes shifting ever slightly in the morning sun.

The two continued to glance around in silence, watching the gates and the sky. As the temple priestess was reciting last rights for a soldier, who completely ignored her and told her to be quiet so he could die in peace, Markus kept watching the sky. As the sound of steel hitting bone passed through his ears, he glanced down at the man's carcass and sighed before glancing to the sky again. As the next prisoner was called to the block, another, closer roar was heard through the small town. Markus and Arnbjorn instinctively grasped the hilts of their weapons. As a young female soldier was led to the block, a third, deafening roar was heard, causing Markus and Arnbjorn to snap their heads towards the sky. There, above the tower nearest the execution, was a large black dragon, which swooped down and slammed onto the tower, flinging chunks of stone down onto the gathered group of warriors and soldiers. The dragon looked as if it was inhaling a breath, and, opening its large jaws, it released a horrible roar that, to Markus, sounded like words.

As the gathered crowd staggered and fought to find their footing, flaming boulders began to fall from the sky. As the townspeople began to run and scream, Markus could only hear the ringing in his ears, and his vision distorted heavily until he could barely see past the darkness that had clouded the edges of his vision. He felt hands shove him towards the ground, and was barely aware of the boulder that just missed him. Shaking his head, he glanced up and saw Arnbjorn standing over him, ax drawn and held tightly in both hands. With trembling movement, Markus heaves himself up off of the ground and stands at Arnbjorn's side.

“We need to get out of here, and fast!” Arnbjorn calls over the sound of stones hitting the earth, as well as the roaring of the dragon.

“Agreed old friend!” Markus calls back, eyes scanning for an exit.

Nudging Arnbjorn's side, Markus heads towards the tavern that they had just left, dodging between the building and the adjacent wall, falling to the ground when the dragon landed on the wall and hurled an angry blast of flames at the incoming guards and archers. As the dragon once more ascended into the sky, Markus and Arnbjorn quickly made their way out of Helgen through the now collapsed gate that lead to the south road. When a powerful roar was heard from behind, the two of them ducked into the woods at the edge of the trail and watched the black beast fly towards Bleak Falls Barrow. Markus felt his stomach tighten as he watched the dragon's flight, and Arnbjorn looked at him with a questioning glance.

“Aela... Dengen... Divine's let that blasted bird ignore Whiterun.” Markus whispered as he thought of his wife and son.

“It will, it's way above city level. Especially a city like Whiterun. Looks like it's heading east now, towards Falkreath.” Arnbjorn replied, eyes scanning the large dragon as it changed its flight pattern.

“I need to get back to Whiterun and inform the Jarl. Riverwood is unprotected.” Markus began, eyes locked on Arnbjorn.

“I understand. I'll be heading back to Falkreath myself. The city already has a long history of death. No more need to be added to it's cemetery.” Arnbjorn replied, a smirk on his slightly aged face.

“Perhaps we'll get together again. I'd like to meet this Astrid of yours.” Markus called as he began to head towards Whiterun.

“We'll get together again, Markus. Besides, you still owe me one more drink!” Arnbjorn replied as he watched Markus disappear down the path. He sighed as the figure disappeared. “Once again, one of us is watching the other's back...” Arnbjorn lamented, remembering his departure from Bruma, and the look of utter despair in Markus' eyes.

Without a second glance, Arnbjorn began the trek back to Falkreath, and to the Sanctuary just beyond. He needed to have a discussion with his wife and Brotherhood.


	5. The Western Watchtower

Whiterun was buzzing with gossip as people flocked around the market stalls, talking in hushed whispers of the large, black dragon that flew just close enough for a glimpse of it's massive body; a herald of death, according to Heimskr. With urgency in his steps, Markus climbed the stairs to the entrance of Dragonsreach, shoved open the massive doors, and made his way promptly to Balgruuf, Jarl of Whiterun.

"My Jarl, I assume that you have since received word of this dragon threat." Markus began, voice calm with practiced ease.

"Yes. Several guards have brought this matter to my attention." Balgruuf replied, arms crossed before his broad chest.

"My Jarl, Riverwood is largely unprotected. They wouldn't be able to survive an attack by that beast." Markus continued, jumping right to the point of his hasty intrusion.

"Hmmm.. Yes, you're very right Markus. I'll send a group of guards right away." Balgruuf replied, turning to Irileth to have her round up a group of guards.

"My Jarl, surely you can't be serious. We're talking about a dragon! We would barely be able to protect Whiterun, even with the able bodied guards. We can't afford to send any of them out of the city." Proventus cut in, his tone sharp and heated.

"Proventus, are you telling me that I shouldn't protect my own people?!" Balgruuf exclaimed, turning quickly on his advisor.

"Not at all, Jarl Balgruuf. I'm just pointing out an observation." Proventus explained, all gusto lost from his voice.

"And I am making a decision, as Jarl, to protect my people. Irileth, send out a party of guards to Riverwood at once." Balgruuf requested, turning from Proventus to the Dark Elf.

"At once Jarl Balgruuf." She replied, stepping away from his side to discuss options with the head of the guards, Caius.

"Follow me Markus." Balgruuf requested, walking off towards the adjacent room on the far side of the main hall. Markus did as he was asked, trailing behind the Jarl.

The two men stepped into the room that Balgruuf's court wizard occupied. Farengar Secret-Fire was busy marking various locations on a large map of Skyrim, with really no substance of order to his ramblings, or his markings. Markus stood off to the side as Balgruuf spoke quietly with Farengar before addressing him.

"Markus, Farengar believes he has a task that would be best suited by someone of your talents." Balgruuf explained before Farengar continued on.

"Yes. There is a specific stone that I am looking for, which is technically a map of dragon burial mounds. An associate of mine helped trace it to be resting within Bleak Falls Barrow. I need you to go in and retrieve it for me." Farengar explained as Markus watched him mark the location on the large map mural on the back of some old bookcases.

"Understood. Consider it done Farengar." Markus replied as he turned on his heel to leave Dragonsreach.

\---------------------------------------

The market had quieted down since his arrival, perhaps because everyone believed that the dragon would return, and perhaps they were right. Markus took in the scent of the evening as he made his way to Breezehome, and more importantly, his family. Stepping through the threshold, Markus was greeted to the scent of roasted rabbit and pheasant stew. Looking towards the back of Breezehome, Markus laid his eyes upon Aela, dicing a handful of potatoes and carrots to be placed into the stew, while Dengen slept soundly nestled in the wrap that Aela had made. As she grabbed the bowl of vegetables, she looked up towards her husband as a warm smile graced her lips. Discarding the contents of the bowl into the cooking pot, Aela met Markus at the threshold of their home and embraced him, careful of their son still sleeping against her breast.

"You're back early. I was expecting at least another day with Dengen." She commented, tracing an old scar on Markus' cheek.

"Well. That would have been the case had it not been for a dragon burning Helgen to the ground." Markus breathed, a hint of aggression lining his voice.

"A dragon? They haven't been seen in years." Aela gasped, confusion knit tightly in her brow as she gazed at Markus.

"I recall. The Dragon Cult was destroyed in the late Mythic Era. The Blades themselves continued to eradicate any remaining dragons that had ties to the great Dragon Crisis." Markus recalled, pulling through his memories to his time in the Fighter's Guild.

"Are we in danger?" She questioned, her voice authoritative as she held Dengen closer to her body.

"Aela, I vowed to protect you and our family. I will not go back on that vow now." Markus whispered, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And in order to fulfill my promise to you, I need to help the Jarl. I'll be gone for a day or two searching for an old artifact left behind by the Blades. I'll return home when I can." Markus concluded as he embraced his wife and son once again.

"Come home, and most importantly, come home alive. I love you." Aela pleaded, a softness to her voice that he hadn't heard in months.

"I promise." Markus concluded as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, taking in her scent and the softness of her skin.

The rest of the night was spent with his family, taking in the sight of their faces, the sounds of their voices (and garbled, mashed words from Dengen), and the tranquility that comes with sleep and closeness. When morning came, Markus was seen off by Aela and Dengen, and himself wishing that he didn't have to part with his most beloved family members.

\----------------------------------

Bleak Falls Barrow was, as it was appropriately named, bleak. Aside from a few bandits, the denizens of the Barrow were relatively harmless, and easily disposed of. The traps and triggers of the barrow were simple compared to the many Ayleid ruins of Cyrodil, and Markus felt strangely out of place with his Nordic cousins. Climbing out of a cave structure, Markus came upon a wide, airy room with a large stone structure nestled upon a stone pillar. Markus took the stairs to its peak, looking deeply at the intricately carved symbols etched into the monolith; a strange, foreign murmur hummed in his ears as he traced his fingers along the wall. A low, dangerous rumble began to sound behind him, and within an instant he had turned to see the lid of the lone sarcophagus blow off from its position, and a Drauger stood in it's place. Sword ready, Markus began to hack into the living corpse, spilling what little blood remained in the husk onto the ground. With several well placed swings, the body fell forward and collapsed to the ground; a stone tablet fell from between the corpse's chest plate. Markus took the tablet from the ground, examining it quickly before tucking it safely into his pack and heading out through a door that opened from the cave wall.

\----------------------------------

The forest around Falkreath felt more like home than any confining homestead ever did, and Astrid knew her lover, now husband, felt more at ease with the feeling of grass beneath his feet. She smiled as she greeted him after his trip to Helgen, but she felt something off as he approached. Without warning, Arnbjorn pulled her into his chest and refused to let her go, holding her so close, yet so gently.

"Arnbjorn... What happened?" She questioned, managing to look up into his gray eyes.

"A dragon attacked Helgen. Burned the city to the ground. I didn't think I'd see you again." He muttered, taking her face into his hands; his gaze piercing her heart as he stared deeply into her eyes.

"But you're safe, I'm safe, the family is safe. There are no deaths for us today." Astrid replied, taking hold of his hands in her own.

With a gentleness that she only showed to Arnbjorn, she brought his head down to hers and kissed him. They parted after a moment, but Arnbjorn kept his hands firmly around her waist. They remained outside, gazing at the stars between the trees while the moons passed by ever so subtly. Arnbjorn turned to look at his wife, his heart full to bursting with how much adoration he had for the strong, independent woman that stood at his side.

As the moons fell further into the night sky, Arnbjorn took hold of Astrid's hand and pulled her back into the sanctuary; his bestial blood burned within his veins. He needed his family to be complete. For that, he wanted a child. With his mind firmly set, he pulled her into their room.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Dawn found Markus back in Whiterun, making his way towards Dragonsreach to deliver the stone tablet that weighed heavy in his pack. Pushing through the double doors, Markus immediately headed into Farengar's study, but stopped short as he heard voices whispering through the open entryway.

"You see? The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text. Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with other later texts." That was certainly Farengar's voice, Markus deduced, back to the wall.

"Good. I'm glad you're making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers." This voice was foreign, and certainly not one that Markus could place when he had been traveling into Skyrim from Cyrodil. He strained his ears slightly as he continued to listen to the conversation.

"Oh, have no fear. The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research."

"Time is running, Farengar, don't forget. This isn't some theoretical question. Dragons have come back."

"Yes, yes. Don't worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable... Now, let me show you something else I found... very intriguing... I think your employers may be interested as well..."

At this point, Markus pushed away from the wall and rounded the corner, looking directly into Farengar's study, and slowly made his way into the space.

"You have a visitor." The woman spoke, her voice low enough to make it almost hard to tell her gender, or her intent.

"Hmm? Ah, yes, the Jarl's protege! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die, it seems."

"No, though I can't say the same for a handful of bandits that were making camp out of the Barrow." Markus replied, pulling the stone tablet from his pack. "I do believe that this is what you were intending to find, correct?" Markus asked as he placed the tablet down on the table.

"Yes! That is exactly the artifact that I was looking for!" Farengar exclaimed as he looked down at the dusty piece of stone. "If you intend to look for a reward, you'll have to see the Jarl. I must study this tablet at once." Farengar concluded as he busied himself with cleaning the tablet and cross-examine it with a map of Skyrim.

With a slight sigh, Markus turned on his heel to make his way back out towards the main sitting area of Dragonsreach, but was stopped in his tracks as he came face-to-face with the Jarl's housecarl, Irileth. She placed her hand on his chest plate, holding him in place as she spoke to Farengar.

"Farengar, the Jarl has requested that you and the adventurer meet with him upstairs. Immediately." She explained before turning around and making her way back upstairs to the landing above.

Markus followed right behind Irileth, climbing the stairs to have his audience with the Jarl. They waited no more than a minute before Farengar finally joined them. Jarl Balgruuf cleared his throat before he began to speak to his assembled party.

"Now, tell those assembled exactly what you were telling me." He requested of the slightly shaking guard that stood before him. Markus could hear the poor man's heart hammering against his ribs.

"It was a dragon sir, and it was flying over the Western Watchtower. It didn't attack, just circled and finally flew off. I've never run so fast in my life sir." The man rambled off before Balgruuf silenced him.

"That's enough lad. Go to the barracks and rest. You've earned it." He told the guard before he turned towards Markus, Farengar and Irileth. "Now, Farengar, I need you here to help devise a way to protect the city from this beasts. Irileth, take as many men as you can muster and head to the Watchtower immediately." He spoke as he looked between Court Wizard and Housecarl.

"But sir... If I could just get a sample..." Farengar began before being swiftly cut off by a harsh gaze. He slowly retreated back downstairs to his study.

"I know I'm asking a lot from you, but I need you to go with Irileth and the men to search the Watchtower. And if it comes to it, kill the beast." Balgruuf explained as he looked to Markus.

"I understand. Consider it done." Markus replied as he followed behind Irileth.

The two of the walked in silence to the barracks, where several guards had already mustered. Markus stood back as Irileth began to rally the handful of guards that stood before her. As soon as they were prepared, the group left the safety of the city and followed the western road towards the tower. As they approached, they could see the plumes of black smoke than hung in the air like a thick hide. With time no longer on their side, the group made its way to the tower, hoping to find someone left alive.

When they arrived, they found one guard standing at what used to be the door to the tower, sword drawn and body tense, telling them to run. No sooner after he'd screamed for them to run, a loud, low roar could be heard coming behind them. Markus turned and looked upon the dragon, noting with disdain that it was not the same dragon that had turned Helgen into rubble. With a burst from it's powerful wings, the dragon knocked them all over onto their backs as it flew past them. Markus quickly sprung to his feet and watched the dragon circle for a moment before it landed on the roof of the tower, fire spilling from it's gaping maw. Markus took his bow from his shoulders, knocked an arrow and let it fly towards the dragon. The arrow flew true, and as soon as it hit, the dragon let out a roar and, once more, took to the skies. Irileth followed suit and fired arrows at the dragon, hoping that it would land.

And land it did. Markus drew his sword and charged at the beast, hacking and slashing his sword wherever he could, making contact with scales and the flesh that they protected. The dragon roared out in pain, swiping at Markus, who took that moment to leap onto the dragon's now extended foreleg. He climbed onto the beast's back and, steadying himself on the dragon's large neck, drove his sword into the beast's skull. As he did so, a strange, guttural voice rang in his mind.

"Dovahkiin... No!"

Shaking the voice from his head, Markus jumped back down onto the ground, taking a few steps away from the corpse before the sound of flames burst from behind him. The gathered group stood back, watching the corpse burst into flames while a trail of colorful energy made its way towards Markus, enveloping him. As the aura faded, many of the Nords gasped in shock, surrounding Markus.

"Are you... Are you Dragonborn?" One asked as he looked closely at Markus.

"It's true! My Da used to tell me stories of the Dragonborn, and how they had the ability to devour of the souls of dragons that they slay. You must be Dragonborn!" Another explained as he, too, looked between Markus and the other guards.

"What are you Nords going on about? Dragonborn?" Irileth questioned as she looked between all of the assembled guards.

"Oh, you wouldn't understand Housecarl, being an Elf and all." One explained, brushing Irileth off as he once again looked at the corpse of the dragon.

"I may not understand this Dragonborn nonsense, but what I do know is that there is a dead dragon here, and that they can be killed by human means." She began as she looked at the skeleton sprawled out in the field next to the tower.

"You," She called as she looked at Markus, "I need you to go back to the Jarl and report what has happened here. The Watchtower is gone, but the dragon's can be killed. Go." She ordered, and Markus was only too pleased to oblige.

As he approached Whiterun, the very ground shook beneath him as thunder erupted from the sky.

"Dovahkiin!"

Markus continued on towards Dragonsreach, passing through the market and climbing the many stairs as quickly as he could. He stopped as he approached Jorrvaskr. There, on the steps, was Aela and Dengen who were just leaving the Hall. Markus approached them and, instinctively, grabbed Aela by the waist to pull them both to his chest in a hug.

"Markus!" Aela exclaimed with joy as she wrapped her free arm around her husband's neck.

"Aela, my love. I've missed you these last four days." He concluded as he kissed both his wife and son.

"Markus, you smell like burnt flesh and smoke... What happened?" Aela asked, her nose crinkled slightly at the foul smell that painted her husband's armor.

"A dragon attacked the Western Watchtower, but we were able to kill it. I'm on my way to see Balgruuf now to tell him the news." Markus explained as he released Aela from his hold.

"Might we accompany you?" Aela asked as she readjusted Dengen on her hip.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, my love." Markus replied as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

The two of them made their way to Dragonsreach, where Markus explained what happened at the Western Watchtower, and informed the Jarl that they were able to kill the dragon that attacked them. They also conversed about the call that rang out from the sky, and Balgruuf asked Markus what had happened when they killed the dragon. He explained that an aura surrounded him, and that the guards began to call him Dragonborn. Balgruuf smiled for a moment before it faded into a frown. Balgruuf explained that, if Markus were indeed Dragonborn, then it meant that there world was coming to an end, and Alduin was here to fulfill his ancient duty of devouring the world. He was told to seek out the Greybeards, the ones who had shaken the very ground with the power of their voices to summon him, in High Hrothgar, which was situated upon the Throat of the World above the village of Ivarstead. Along with this new quest, Markus was granted Thaneship in Whiterun, as well as the Axe of Whiterun directly from Balgruuf's armory. Markus knew that this journey would not be easy on him, or his family, and so made it a point to wait through the night to spend it with those closest to him


	6. Faith

Months seemed to fly by, and Markus was once more regarded a hero to another Hold. The threat of Alduin was still very real, but he always took whatever time he could to spend with his family. That was where this bright Morndas day. The family was spending time in the Whiterun marketplace when a courier approached from the main gate. Upon accepting the letter, the courier turned and left, and Markus looked between the letter and Aela.

"Open it dear." Aela spoke softly as she picked their squirming son up from the ground.

Markus pried the wax seal open and began to read.

"Markus,

I hope this letter finds you well old friend. It is not safe for us in Falkreath, and I am hopeful that we can come together with our wives to discuss a matter that is of great importance to me. I cannot explain the reason in this letter, for it would be far too dangerous. I ask that you trust me, and meet me on the Whiterun plains, away from any prying eyes or listening ears. Meet us there fifth of Second Seed, it should be the Morndas that you receive this letter.

With regards,

Arnbjorn."

"Arnbjorn? I haven't heard from him in months, though I'm not surprised." Markus commented, tucking the letter into his pack.

"What did it say love?" Aela asked as she adjusted Dengen to her left hip.

"I'll tell you at home." Markus whispered, catching sight of a market patron staring at them.

The two of them grabbed the meat that they had purchased, as well as the vegetables, and made their way back to Breezehome. As soon as the door closed behind him, Markus began to speak to Aela about the letter.

"He wants us to meet him on the plains?" Aela questioned as she handed Dengen a small piece of venison jerky that she had made for his teething, but now kept around the house.

"He wouldn't say anything in letter for what it was in regards to. Said it was too dangerous to explain on a piece of paper. But he wants both of us there, and he is bringing his wife Astrid along with him." Markus explained as he gathered the chopped vegetables into a bowl for Aela.

"So we're to meet him tonight."

"That was what was written."

"What about Dengen?"

"I'm sure Lydia wouldn't mind watching him for the night, but if not, he does love his uncles Farkas and Vilkas." Markus listed, slightly chuckling at the thought of Farkas and Vilkas babysitting Dengen. Their last experience wasn't quite what the two warriors were expecting.

"I will not do that to them again." Aela laughed as she grabbed a jar of wildberries from the shelf.

"Lydia it is then." Markus replied as he began to put the vegetables and meat into the cooking pot.

The small family ate dinner together, knowing that Markus would be leaving soon to continue this new quest that he was destined to complete. As dinner was completed, the two of them asked Lydia if she would watch Dengen for a few hours so that they could go for an evening walk, purposefully omitting their true reason for leaving from their Houscarl. It would be an explanation for another day. Lydia, of course, happily accepted their request and gently took Dengen from Aela. The two of them, she assured, would be fine. Markus and Aela bid them goodnight, kissed Dengen, and made their way out into the streets of Whiterun. As soon as they were far enough away from the guards and city, the two of them let their beast blood take hold, and transformed into their Werewolf forms. The two of them ran for many yards, letting the scent of the Earth fill their senses, and the feel of the ground pound beneath their paws. As they got further and further away from Whiterun, a new scent filled their senses. Markus turned his course and began running towards the new smell, with Aela following closely behind him. The scent took them to Greenspring Hallow, where the two of them stopped short. From the hollowed out rock, a low, angered growl emitted, followed by another Werewolf. Markus kept his gaze on the other wolf, trying to place the scent for a moment before his brain clicked.

"Arnbjorn?" He called, his thoughts now shared with the other wolf.

"Markus? Yes, it's me." He replied as he looked into Markus' eyes.

Markus looked at Aela and nodded his head just slightly. The two of them began to revert back to their human forms, while Arnbjorn stayed back in his wolf form. After Markus and Aela reverted, Arnbjorn turned his head back towards the Hallow and tilted his head, while Markus and Aela looked on with confusion clearly etched on their faces. From the shadows of the hallow, a new figure emerged, a woman, with a bundle wrapped in her arms. Markus could hear the second, faster heartbeat, and he looked to Aela, who now had taken on a look of maternal instinct. Arnbjorn reverted back to his human form and began to speak.

"Markus, Aela, this is Astrid." Arnbjorn explains as he wraps his arm around her waist. "And this little bundle is our daughter, Faith." He concludes, shifting the blanket away from the child's face.

"Arnbjorn... Friend, why have you called us here." Markus asked as he looked between Arnbjorn, Astrid, and their daughter.

"As I stated in my letter, our line of work is far too dangerous. Far too dangerous to raise a child in, especially a child of a Werewolf, as I'm sure you would understand."

"I do. I spend less and less time with my family because of this Dragonborn business. But please, continue." Markus stated with a slight wave of his hand.

"We were hoping... That, perhaps you would be willing to take Faith in for us..." Astrid continued, a slight tremble in her voice as she looked down to her only child. The child that she carried for nine months, who she knew Arnbjorn adored more than anything else in the world. The child who completed their own little family. "We cannot keep her at the sanctuary with us... Not that our family members have ever given us a reason to not trust them around her, but there is something in the air that makes my skin crawl." Astrid continued as she held Faith closer to her body.

"There is a danger on the wind that we don't know about yet, and we are afraid for her life. Please Markus... Please, take her and keep her safe." Arnbjorn pleaded as he looked between Faith and Markus.

Markus looked at Aela, who's eyes glistened in the moonlight with the sign of tears. He knew that she would take this child as her own, no questions asked. Her instincts to mother were far stronger than any beast blood could ever be, and she'd be damned if she would allow a child to be left in the hands of fate or death. Markus released the breath that he had been holding and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he nodded his head to Aela, who beamed back at him.

"We'll take her for you. We'll raise her alongside Dengen as brother and sister." Aela remarked as she looked back at Arnbjorn and Astrid.

"Thank you... Thank you so much..." Astrid cried, her voice trembling as she looked down at her daughter's sleeping face. "You're going to be just fine now, my little wolf. You're going to be okay." Astrid mumbled as she placed gentle kisses on her daughter's cheeks.

Aela and Markus walked up to them, further discussing plans for how they would communicate, how they would check in with Faith, and how long they believed that Markus and Aela would be her guardians. Aela took the small bundle in her arms and waited silently as Arnbjorn and Astrid said their last goodbye's to the sleeping child. As they backed away from each other, Arnbjorn transformed again, and fell to all fours. Astrid climbed onto his back and the two of them disappeared into the darkness. Aela turned to see Markus, now in his own wolf form, waiting for her a few feet away. She smiled as she situated herself on his back, holding Faith close to her body as the two of them made their way back to Whiterun. In some instances, Markus was usually sharing his thoughts with her as they ran, but tonight, his mind was sealed off from her. When they were close enough to Whiterun, Markus came to a stop, left Aela off of his back, and reverted back to his human form. He began to walk towards the main road when Aela grabbed him firmly by the arm, pulling him back towards her.

"Markus... What is it? You haven't shared any of your thoughts with me." Aela questioned, her eyes flashing between their forest green and her wolf's gold.

"This is just... Something new to me. We've barely been parents ourselves Aela." Markus growled out, his canines slightly elongated as his temper began to climb.

"Markus... You know better than anyone that Arnbjorn would not have asked us to take his daughter if they were not truly scared for her very life. You've told me before that they are assassins. That is the most dangerous profession that I could ever imagine trying to raise a newborn in, yet they came to us, begged us, to take her for her safety. If you are going to turn your back to them, fine. But I will not." Aela growled out, fangs out and eyes gold with her rage, her mind racing with the thought that her husband could be so cruel.

"I'm not turning my back on anyone." Markus replied as he gazed deeply in her eyes.

"Then prove it to me, my love. Prove it to her." She continued, gazing down to the bundle in her arms.

Markus sighed in annoyance, but he knew that she was right. There was, he admitted, too much stacked on his shoulders, but for him to take it out on a newborn was completely out of character for him. Shifting on his feet, he held his arms out towards Aela.

"Here. Let me take her." He spoke, moving to take the bundle from Aela's arms.

She complied, shifting her arms to gently lay the girl into Markus' outstretched arms. With a tenderness she'd only ever seen him give to Dengen, Markus pulled Faith to his chest and held her there in the most protective way he could. The couple began their trek back to Whiterun from the small farm field near the Western Watchtower, through the main gates, and finally back to Breezehome. Silence enveloped them as they walked through the front door, and the couple made their way to their son's room. Dengen was sleeping peacefully in his bed, sprawled out with his covers skewed in different directions. They made their way upstairs, noting that Lydia was also asleep, and made their way to their room. Markus gently placed Faith on the bed, making sure that she remained bundled in the soft furs that Arnbjorn and Astrid wrapped her in.

"How do we explain Faith to Lydia and Dengen?" Markus asked as he pulled his armor over his shoulders.

"That she is the daughter of an old friend, and that they are traveling in dangerous regions." Aela replied as she, too, exchanged her armor for a soft set of sleep clothes. "Besides, I think Dengen will love the idea of having a sibling." She remarked as she laid beneath the covers, gently pulling Faith closer to her chest.

"I suppose you're right, she-wolf." Markus replied as he climbed into bed and kissed her goodnight.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Astrid refused to come to bed, and instead sat outside, alone, with just the stars to keep her company. Arnbjorn knew what she was feeling, knew how she was feeling, but he didn't know what he could do to help her. She had all but refused to be touched, even by other members of the family, and most of all by Arnbjorn. He sighed as he looked at her, moonlight reflecting off of her pale skin, tear tracks clearly visible on her cheeks. He had tried his best to speak to her when they got back to the sanctuary, but she shut him down, closed off her heart, and avoided him at every turn. Perhaps they just weren't meant to be together. He sighed, but made his way slowly over to her, careful not to disturb the area around them.

"Astrid..." He called, so softly that she had to strain her ears to hear him.

"Go away Arnbjorn." She returned, not once turning her gaze from the dark pond before her.

"Please Astrid..." He asked once more, his voice laced with a sadness that she'd only heard from him once. She turned her head to look at him.

His eyes were red-rimmed, just as hers were, and his body was practically collapsing from beneath him. She knew that they were sharing the same feelings about Faith, but she just... She couldn't look at him. Not yet. She turned her head around and stared back into the pond.

"Not now Arnbjorn." She huffed as she closed her body further in on itself.

Arnbjorn knew he was defeated at this point, and that he needed to tuck his tail and retreat for now. She was mourning, as any mother who had to give up her child would, and he wanted to respect her privacy to do so, but his heart wanted them to mourn together.

"I'll send Babette with a cover." He called out as he turned back towards the sanctuary.

She spun her head around as he said that, only to see him disappear behind the sanctuary door. In that moment, her heart shattered just a little more at the damage that was already tearing her little piece of happiness apart. Not only was their daughter gone, but their relationship was soon to follow, and new tears spilled forth from her pale eyes. Within minutes, the sanctuary door opened once again to reveal Babette with a saber cat pelt in her arms. She made her way to Astrid and wrapped the cover around her mistress' shoulders.

"Thank you Babette..." Astrid whispered as she took the edges of the pelt in her hands, pulling it close to her body.

"Astrid... Maybe you should talk to him." Babette mentioned as she moved to stand a foot away to Astrid's left.

"I can't, Babette. Not now. Not until this is right." Astrid grumbled, fists clenching around the pelt.

"But it is right, isn't it? Faith is somewhere safe, with people that you and Arnbjorn trust. Isn't that enough for right now?" Babette questioned, trying to wrap her mind around Astrid's sudden solidarity.

"Even with your three hundred years of life, you never got to experience having a child. In body, you are still a child yourself..." Astrid commented sadly, thinking of the many things that Babette may still never get to experience with her physical appearance.

"No, but I've seen mothers lose their children. I've seen them lost during pregnancy, as infants, toddlers, children, teenagers, and young adults. Your daughter is alive, she is alive and healthy and with people that wouldn't dream of hurting her." Babette remarked, her mind trailing to darker times for many other women she has encountered over the years. "And yet, here you sit, worrying about everything on your own, and leaving your husband out in the cold." Babette chided as she turned to lock her eyes onto Astrid.

When Astrid remained silent, Babette sighed and walked back into the sanctuary. She walked past the room that Astrid and Arnbjorn shared, and noted that the Werewolf was nowhere to be found. She ran through to the inner sanctum of the sanctuary, searching for the burly man. He wasn't in the loft where Festus mixed potions, or the kitchen where Gabriella happened to make some of the tastiest food in all of Skyrim, nor was he at the forge where he sharpened all of his axes and kept in shape. She continued to look around the entire sanctuary for him, but was stopped short when she saw Astrid standing at the top of the stairs.

"He's not here, Babette... He can't stand being cooped up when he's upset. I'm sure he'd love to be anywhere far from me at this point, especially with what I'm putting him through." She sighed, collapsing onto the steps and pulling the pelt around her shoulders again.

"What? How did he manage to escape without any of us knowing?"

"He's a Werewolf, my little Vampiress. Stealth and cunning are special qualities of his. I'm not surprised that he managed to sneak past your impressive sense of hearing." Astrid explained as she looked at the young figure before her. "Besides, we've been together long enough to figure each other out. He always disappears when he's distressed."

As Astrid finished speaking, she stood and made her way back outside, followed closely by Babette. The two stood in silence for a few moments before a noise echoed through the sky. A low, yet pitched howl echoed through the trees, and Astrid could feel the pain in that howl. She knew her husband, it would seem, too well. She closed her eyes as she listened to the howling, small tears escaping as her husband's wolf song surrounded her. Babette could only look at her mistress in awe, sensing just how close she was to her Werewolf husband. This was one of those things that she may never get to experience herself, but she was more than comfortable with seeing others experience it themselves. As the howling lessened to nothing more than a few whimpers on the wind, Astrid opened her eyes and looked to the stars.

"Arnbjorn..." She whispered as she dropped her gaze to the ground.

Babette took this moment to slip away back into the sanctuary; Astrid needed space at that time, and she knew that more than anyone. She made her way slowly back to her room and sat on her stone bed, hoping that Astrid and Arnbjorn could figure out how to get past this setback in their relationship. She fell into a deep sleep as soon as she laid back on the slab.


	7. Healing

When sunlight pierced his sensitive sight, Markus raised his arm to shield his face, taking very careful moments to adjust his eyes to the light. He rolled onto his side and looked to his wife's still sleeping face, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. Then his attention turned down to the small child that slept peacefully between them, and his mind traveled to the night before, flashing back to Arnbjorn's plea and the devastated look that covered Astrid's face. Markus gently exhaled a small breath before moving to stand from the bed, putting on his old wolf armor before making his way down the stairs to begin breakfast. As he rounded the corner, the sound of Dengen rousing from sleep himself came flooding in his ears. Parental instincts kicked in and Markus made his way to Dengen to gather the young boy in his arms.

"Not so small anymore, are you pup?" Markus chuckled as he shifted his son onto his shoulders. Dengen merely giggled in response as he took hold of his father's head.

Markus made his way back to the small pantry area and gathered some ingredients on his hands before making his way to the table to prepare their breakfast.

"How about eggs today." He began, gently tickling Dengen's foot with his free hand, receiving laughter in return.

Going back about his business, Markus continued to prepare breakfast with Dengen pointing to various items, while simultaneously requesting jerky to chew on.

\-----------------------------------------------

Aela shifted in her sleep before finally blinking herself awake. As her eyes adjusted to the light that shined in their room, she took in the sight of the abandoned side of their bed, but also took in the smell of fresh eggs cooking over the fire. Shifting herself onto her elbow, she gently traced her finger over Faith's still sleeping face, then gently ran her hand over the tuft of blonde hair that covered her head. With a small pang of guilt, Aela looked at the infant before her.

"You might have few chances to see your birth parents, but you will always know the love of a family..." Aela whispered as she wrapped her arm around the bundle of furs that covered Faith's body. The infant girl smiled in her sleep as Aela pulled her close to her chest.

With stealth and silence that came naturally to her wolf, Aela moved from the bed and dressed in her armor, absentmindedly clasping the belts that crossed her shoulders, keeping her armor securely in place. Her boots took little time, and before long, she was dressed and gathering Faith into her arms, silently dreading how they would explain her to Lydia, but even more so, Dengen. With a deep, calming breath, she made her way downstairs towards the smell of eggs and pheasant.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Arnbjorn slowly made his way back into the sanctuary, completely ignoring the queen sized bed that called his name, and made his way back to the room he once called his before his marriage to Astrid. Walking into the barren room, he lowered himself down onto the bed and promptly fell into a deep slumber, only to be awaken little over an hour later by Babette. Locking eyes with the Vampiress, he sighed before he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Yes Babette?" He asked, sleep and anger lining his voice.

"You need to talk to Astrid." Babette replied, her voice remarkably calm for the topic of their conversation.

"You and I both know that she wants nothing to do with me as of yesterday. What makes you think, and forgive my tone, that she wants to talk to me now?" Arnbjorn questioned as he looked intensely at Babette with gold tinted eyes.

"She heard you last night, you know." Babette began, eyes shifting between looking at Arnbjorn and the wall behind him. "You must know that she misses you."

"Don't you think she would have sought me out herself?" Arnbjorn was getting tired of Babette's onslaught of questions and need for him to speak to his wife.

"She's... Not exactly thinking straight. So I came in her place." Babette covered as she clasped her hands together behind her back.

Arnbjorn sighed before he spoke again, eyes now fully changed to their golden hue, canines now slightly elongated as he tried to keep his temper in check, though it was becoming a fruitless battle because the girl was now grating on his nerves. Exhaling through his nose, he looked back up at the girl standing before him.

"Fine. I'll find her." He grunted as he stood from the bed, making his way out into the sanctuary looking for his wife.

The members of their family all watched him with pensive eyes, breath held as he made his way towards the front of the sanctuary, barely glancing their way before disappearing into the entryway. They only exhaled when they heard the sanctuary door close behind him with a resounding slam. With nothing but grace in her gait, Babette emerged from the small hallway where the bedrooms were, a smirk playing on her lips. Gabriella looked over to her, and with a small, barely noticable tremble to her voice, she asked Babette the question that they were all, aside from Festus, wondering.

"Babette, what did you say to him?" The Dark Elf breathed out as she locked her gaze on the Vampiress' eyes.

"Oh, nothing much." Babette conceded, refusing to continue to conversation, and instead making her way to watch their pet Frostbite Spider as it scurried across the small cutout it called home.

\------------------------------------------------------

The light of day burned his already tired eyes, but Arnbjorn bared the pain and continued on his way. His wolf whimpered helplessly in his head, and as much as he wanted to will the sound away, he was all too familiar with that whimper. Even his wolf missed Astrid, almost as much as he did. He sighed heavily as he began to trek down the road, using his keen eyes and sense of smell to find his way through the forest that surrounded Falkreath Hold. At some point, his nose perked at the faint, yet memorable scent of Astrid, and he followed it as the sun rose higher into the sky. Making his way between trees that were far older than the first Men, Arnbjorn allowed his wolf's memory guide him to the clearing that rested between the forest and Lake Ilinalta. There, standing at the edge of the lake's surface, was Astrid, clad in nothing more than a simple tunic and skirt, hair tied loosely as it blew in the soft breeze, with her Saber pelt discarded at her feet.

"Astrid..." Arnbjorn breathed, captivated by the sight of her in the midday sun.

He took a step towards her, but stopped himself as he gazed at her. It was then that his ears perked up at the sound of soft sniffles, and Arnbjorn felt his heart break just a little more as he listened to her cry, alone, surrounded by nothing but trees and lapping water. With hesitance, Arnbjorn moved closer to Astrid, though maintaining a safe distance from her so as not to startle her. Finding his voice, he called out to her again.

"Astrid..."

She stiffened just slightly before turning to gaze over her shoulder, eyes bloodshot and tear tracks shining on her cheeks. Her sharp intake of breath exploded in her ears as she gazed at her husband, the small distance between them closing in as he slowly made his way to her. She slowly turned to face him, arms wrapped around herself as the gentle breeze blew from behind her. Before Arnbjorn could reach her, Astrid practically threw herself into his embrace, huddling as close to him as she could, fresh tears quietly sliding down her cheeks. Arnbjorn could no longer speak, and instead wrapped his arms tightly around Astrid's trembling figure, pulling her into his chest.

They didn't speak for several long minutes, but comforted each other in silence until Astrid could no longer produce anymore tears. She didn't move from his embrace, but she tilted her head to look to his face, eyes staring off to the lake, but seeing nothing. With practiced patience, Astrid moved her hand to brush at Arnbjorn's silver hair; her slight movement bringing him back to the present. He allowed her to touch his face, her fingers lingering at his jaw for several seconds before she finally pulled her hand back to wrap around his waist. They were silent for a few minutes longer before Arnbjorn finally spoke.

"The others are worried about you." He began, gently twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. "Babette is worried about us." He concluded, releasing her hair and looking down into her eyes.

"I'd almost expect nothing less from Babette." Astrid spoke, a wet chuckle escaping her throat.

"Astrid... I'm sorry..." Arnbjorn whispered, his eyes closing as they began to sting with tears that he'd refused to let fall, after all, weakness didn't really befit a werewolf.

"I'm the one who should be sorry..." Astrid whispered, her heart clenching painfully in her chest.

"But... Astrid I-" Arnbjoron began before she silenced him.

"No Arnbjorn. I'm the one who's at fault. You were only thinking of Faith and her safety, and I was being selfish for wanting her to stay at the sanctuary with us, where she would be in danger by whatever our gut feeling is trying to tell us. You gave her her best chance at life, and I inadvertently almost sentenced her to death. You saved her." Astrid spoke, leaving no opening for Arnbjorn to oppose her statements. He finally bowed his head with a smirk and looked into her eyes.

"Let's just go home." He whispered, gathering her Saber pelt and wrapping it around her shoulders.

Astrid smiled, a small blush coating her cheeks, as she leaned her head onto Arnbjorn's shoulder while the two of them began their trek back to the sanctuary.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Markus heard the soft footfalls of Aela walking towards the stairs above them, and with a steady hand, Markus pulled Dengen close to him, hoisting the small boy onto the table that was in the kitchen. He sighed softly, eyes closed for a moment in thought, before he finally locked eyes with his son.

"Dengen, papa needs to talk to you." He began, holding the small boy softly by the arm.

Dengen tilted his head in question as he looked at his father, his blue eyes curious as they matched Markus' own in their piercing gaze. He watched his father for mere moments before Markus began to speak again.

"Papa and mama want to introduce you to someone." Markus spoke, eyes focused on Dengen as the young boy took in his father's words.

Moments later, Aela was at the base of the stairs, facing husband and son with Faith snuggled securely in her arms. She looked between Markus and Dengen, taking in their faces before she announced her presence. Dengen looked over to her, a smile going from ear-to-ear as he looked at her, and then his eyes trailed down to the now shifting bundle of furs in her arms. His eyes quickly shifted from the bundle to his mother, and then over to his father, before finally coming to rest on the furs once more. Aela stepped closer to Markus and Dengen, cleared her throat, and knelt before her son, gently moving the furs away from Faith's face.

"Dengen, this is Faith." She began, tilting the infant girl so that he could get a better look at her. "She's going to be living with us for a while. Papa and mama want you to be her big brother." She continued, looking at her son's face to gauge his reaction to Faith.

Dengen stared at the bundle for a long while, watching the girl's changing facial expressions as she slept soundly in Aela's arms. He shifted, uncertainly, before he reached out towards the bundle. Aela gently held Faith closer to her son's hand, allowing him the sense of touch that he was asking for. Dengen softly placed his small hand against the bundle of furs, earning movement from Faith before she let out a soft coo. A new smile stretched across Dengen's face as he looked up to his mother's eyes, and she returned his with one of her own. Markus let out a sigh of relief, thinking that this meeting was not going to go as well as it just did. Aela looked up to his eyes, relief clearly expressed in her's as well.

"You know, with a new baby in the house, we really should look for something bigger." She expressed, eyes locked with Markus'.

"As always my she-wolf, you're right. I'll have to head out and look through some of the other holds for homes or land, anything to get us started with our family." He replied, moving to her side as Dengen continued to stare at his new sister.

\------------------------------------------------------

Arnbjorn and Astrid made their way into the sanctuary, well after the sun had begun to set behind the horizon, hands intertwined and an air of comfort around them. Babette noticed them walking in, a small smile creeping onto her face as she watched them stand at the table next to the entryway. She refused to use her hearing to eavesdrop, as she could clearly see the smiles that were on their faces as they gazed at each other. Finally, the family was beginning to piece itself back together. She watched them for a few moments more before she noticed Arnbjorn making his way towards the bedrooms that the other family members utilized. With confusion clouding her mind, she followed Arnbjorn down to his original room as he made his way to sit on the bed. As he did so, he looked up at Babette's confused expression and returned it with one of his own.

"Why are you sleeping here again?" She questioned, clearly not caring that she knew his business.

"Astrid and I have a mutual agreement. I'll stay in my original room until we both feel comfortable enough to share a bed again. It's quite simple Babette." He confessed, eyes trained on the Vampiress.

"But you were both smiling together, holding hands even. I don't understand..." She mumbled, her fingers dancing before her figure as she fumbled with the hem of her tunic.

"Babette, I know you're trying to help us, but this is what is working for us at the moment. We do appreciate what you've done thus far, really, but space is something that we need." Arnbjorn spoke softly to her, not for any particular reason, but he thought it might make her feel a little better. "Astrid feels the same way. Ask her yourself if you don't believe me." He concluded, pinching the bridge of his nose before he looked at her again.

"No... I believe you. I may not understand this reasoning, but I will respect your decisions." She conceded before turning to walk out of his room and down the hall back to hers.

Sitting on her stone slab, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what happened between them that afternoon. It was obvious that they spoke for quite some time, but to come to such a conclusion? It was beyond her three hundred and twelve years. With a sigh, she laid down on the slab and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.


	8. Now We Go Our Own Ways

Several months seemed to fly by for the small family of four. Markus had continued with his quest to destroy or, at the least, displace Alduin the World-Eater. He'd traveled throughout the Holds, searching for who would have the best living arrangements for them, finally settling on a rather decently sized home in Windhelm. Though the city was by far the last place that she wanted to be, Aela had to admit that it was much larger than Breezehome, and she could guard herself and the children well enough on her own. But to help ease her worries, Markus enlisted the help of Farkas and Vilkas, who in turn enlisted younger, brasher werewolves to help protect the small family. Markus noticed just how at ease Aela was with the amount of protection that their Shield-Brothers provided, and he worked out an agreement that, even though he was happy that they had found other werewolves amongst the wilds of Skyrim to lend their fangs and claws, that the brothers would not leave Aela or the children alone with them. Farkas and Vilkas had no qualms about the request, as they loved their Shield-Siblings and the little ones with both of their hearts, and would never let them be harmed.

Markus had left with his heart lifted knowing that Aela and their children would be safe. Faith had been growing so fast lately, already walking and babbling before he'd even left to continue this Dragonborn quest that he was thrust into. As Rorikstead disappeared behind him, and farms gave way to the wilds, Markus found himself suddenly drawn towards a familiar, yet changed, scent. Markus followed the scent for several miles before he came upon a small gathering of trees. Dismounting his horse, he stalked into the trees, his eyes sharp and his ears active. Crouching low to the ground, Markus looked between a bush and tree, only to lay his eyes upon Arnbjorn and Astrid, whom he hadn't seen or heard from since the night they parted with Faith. Noticing the look on their faces, Markus reached out with his mind to Arnbjorn.

"Arnbjorn... What are you doing here?" He asked, mind open to his long-time friend.

"Markus?" Arnbjorn questioned, immediately turning his attention from his wife to look around the small clearing between the trees.

Markus stood and walked out from behind the bushes, giving his friend a sympathetic smile. Arnbjorn rises and moves to embrace his friend, and the surrogate father of his daughter. The two of them stand together for some time before separating, at which point Astrid wrapped her arms tightly around Markus.

"How is she?" She asked, her voice beginning to break with tears.

"She's wonderful." Markus replied with a smile, "She's just stated walking and babbling."

"Already? Oh, Arnbjorn... We're missing out on so much..." Astrid choked out, backing from Markus to pull herself into Arnbjorn's embrace.

"I know... I know, but she's safe, she's healthy, and she's alive." Arnbjorn soothed Astrid before his face became grim.

"What is it Arnbjorn?" Markus asked, his senses picking up on his friend's change.

"The sanctuary was attacked. We lost everyone except Babette and Nazir, thank the Divines." Arnbjorn replied, his body tensed with anger and sorrow. "Astrid and I barely made it out ourselves."

"But you did, and you're here. Soon you can have your daughter again." Markus commented, but bit his tongue when he considered his friend's pained eyes.

"We can't... Not for some time, I'm afraid. Markus, we can't stop running at this point. Astrid and I will have to go our separate ways until this blows over. We may even have to flee Skyrim for the time being." Arnbjorn explained, leaving out the details of why the sanctuary was attacked and burned.

"Then you'll never be able to see her..." Markus whispered, his eyes looking at Arnbjorn but seeing 0nothing.

Markus could feel his heart clench in his chest. Arnbjorn and Astrid may never get to see Faith again in their lives, and he couldn't bear the thought of doing anything of the sort to Dengen. It would kill him to be away from his wife and pup. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek before shaking the thought from his head and finding his breath again.

"Markus... I know that we've asked a lot of you and Aela by taking care of Faith for us, but I beg you to keep her safe for a little longer. Until it is safe for us to take her. Train her to protect herself, and help her claim her wolf. She is my daughter after all, and Hircine's gift travels down the line." Arnbjorn spoke, his voice coated with love for his daughter as he held Astrid ever closer to him.

"Arnbjorn, we've known each other too long for me to go back on my promise to you. I will do my best as her mentor, and I will make sure that she knows about you both." Markus vowed.

"Thank you my friend." Arnbjorn breathed, his heart finally feeling slightly at ease.

"We will see her as often as we can. Do not be worried if you see movement in the shadows." Astrid spoke, her tone lighter than it had been. "And Markus, when she is older, please give this to her." Astrid continued, reaching behind her neck to unclasp the chain that hung around her neck. She pulled the garnet pendent from beneath her shirt, placing it in Markus' hand and clasping it shut tightly in her own.

Markus nodded to them both and watched them leave in separate directions. Arnbjorn headed south towards the Jerall mountains, and Cyrodill, and Astrid headed west towards High Rock. He sighed sadly before making his way back to his horse, who he found grazing several meters away. Climbing onto the steed's back, Markus continued towards Whiterun, and hopefully the end of this journey.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

The sight of the Jerall Mountains was a once welcomed sight to Arnbjorn, now, his body shook with the memory of seeing them for the last time as he and his mother made their way from their home after being forced from the safety of Bruma. His eyes shifted slightly as he made his decent from the mountain path towards his once beloved town. The castle towers loomed over the town walls, leaving Arnbjorn with no question of the remaining popularity of the cities political prowess. The light of the half-moon bathed his figure as his stride carried him to what once was home. The guard standing at the gate was easy to sneak past, and Arnbjorn was once again finding himself thanking his wolf for being with him. As he walked into the city, his feet carried him back to his home, which was now dilapidating as it sat, unoccupied, in the same place it had always been. He snarled slightly at the sight, but slowly made his way into the unlocked cellar doors beneath the trees.

His feet found the familiar surface of the cellar, and memories flashed before his eyes. He remembered his father, Tharsten, teaching him how to wield a sword and shield, which, to be honest, he never picked up on. He'd always found two-handed weapons much more efficient than a basic sword and shield combo. Regardless, he always enjoyed those moments with his father, they were what he held dear to him after Tharsten had been killed that night so long ago. He gazed upon the old practice dummies that stood stationary in the far corner of the cellar. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, seeing his once favorite activity decaying in the corner. He tore his gaze away and made his way up the staircase to the main floor of the house, and found all their old furniture still placed where they had been so many years ago, with the only difference being the layers of dust that covered the old wood. He made his way towards the stairwell to climb to the second level of the house, tracing his fingers over the old wood as he passed by, kicking up a small puff of dust as his fingers left the table they had traced.

As he made his way to the second floor, his feet were instantly drawn to his parent's old room, his breath catching in his chest as he walked, his fingers trembling as he reached to push the door inwards. The hinges creaked angrily as the door was pushed towards the wall, and Arnbjorn was met with the sight of the openness that was his parent's bedroom. The bed was off to one side of the room, a small dresser was against the far wall facing the bed, and a saber cat pelt covered the middle of the floor; the faint smell of his old life tickled his nostrils as he stepped over the pelt to make his way to the dresser. He pulled the top drawer open and began to rummage through some of the old clothing that his mother had left behind in their quick packing, and was surprised to feel his fingers brush against leather near the bottom of the drawer. He pulled out the few knit shirts that his mother had left behind, now worn away from the moths that buzzed in and out of the rafters above him. With careful ease, Arnbjorn pulled a small leather journal from the bottom of the drawer, warn a little at the edges, but relatively untouched by the years that had passed. Making his way over to the bed, Arnbjorn took a seat at the edge and began to read though his father's journal.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Astrid made her way through the sparse forests that coated the landscape of High Rock, her eyes trained on the shadows, trying her damn best to find even the slightest hint of a Black Door. The forests or Stormhaven, as she had heard, housed at least one Sanctuary within the province. She made her way towards an opening in the tree line, and made her way upon a small clearing in the middle of the woods. Looking around at the clearing, her eyes came upon a large rock formation near the far edge where the trees once again lined the horizon. Her curiosity piqued, she slowly made her way over to the formation with practiced grace. With her arms stretched slightly before her, she ran her fingers gently over the surface. With a small click, only picked up faintly to her ears, a section of the wall fell away into a section dug out in the ground, revealing the Black Door she'd been searching for.

"Clever. They've been thinking after the last eradication." She whispered to herself before gently touching the surface of the door.

"What is the flavor of fear?" The door asked, the rasp of the voice of Sithis filled her ears, comforting her in a way that she'd longed for.

"Sublime, my Brother." She replied, her voice coming out with a softness that she only ever used with Arnbjorn.

"Welcome home." Was the response that she received before the door slowly pulled itself open.

She made her way slowly into the old Sanctuary, running her fingers over the cold stone walls as she walked through the dark hallway. Darkness soon gave way to light, and she was greeted by the sight of torches illuminating the main room of the sanctuary. Making her way into the center of the room, she came upon an old stack of the contracts that lay unfulfilled and untouched. She sat down at the table and began to rifle through the contracts, eyes skimming over each page as she went.

"Your contract is to assassinate Jakben in the settlement of Wind Keep, which lies north of Wayrest." Astrid read aloud to herself before placing the contract off to her right before she grabbed another.

"Your contract is to assassinate Ciel in the settlement of Red Rock Camp, near Daggerfall."

Astrid was so caught in her reading that she didn't notice the sound of footfalls behind her before she was suddenly met with the flash of a dagger against her throat. She gasped as she forced her head back against the chest of the newcomer.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in the Black Door?" They demanded, pressing the blade closer to her exposed skin.

"I'm a leader. My Sanctuary was recently purged in Skyrim. I'm currently on the run from the Empire." She spoke, her voice wavering just slightly as she spoke to the person she was currently being held hostage by.

"How did you manage to find the answer to this specific door? The answer has been missing for hundreds of years." The person question again, muffled slightly by their cowl.

"I have my ways. There are many journals and books that have the answers if you just look hard enough." Astrid replied.

She was relieved when the blade was removed from her throat, and was soon joined at the table at the chair across from her. The newcomer removed their cowl and Astrid then noticed that it was a young woman who had held her hostage for that moment of time. The young woman was very much a Breton native of High Rock, if Astrid could tell anything from her slight accent and her lithe figure, but she also looked like she could certainly wield an arsenal of spells, so the fact that she chose to be an assassin was slightly surprising to her. She gazed over at the young girl, her dark black hair fell from the hold that the cowl had on it, and it fell around her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep blue, almost grey, and Astrid was clearly intrigued by this young woman. Her gaze was met by those of the girl before her.

"So, who are you? I've never heard of any Sanctuary's in Skyrim." The girl asked, eyes locked on Astrid.

"Astrid. I was the leader of the Falkreath Hold Sanctuary. It was recently almost burned to the ground after an assassination attempt on the Emperor. As far as I know, my newest recruit had succeeded in the assassination of Titus Mead." Astrid recounted as she looked at the young girl.

"Elia. My parents used to be assassins here. Guess it kind of runs in the family." Elia replied, gently running her finger over the side of her dagger.

"Where are they?" Astrid asked as she looked over at Elia.

"Well, my father has been dead for several years now. Mom retired around the same time he died, and she's been living in Aldcroft for nearly five of those years." Elia replied as she sheathed her dagger.

"How old are you Elia? You still look very young." Astrid asked as she once more locked eyes with the young woman before her.

"I'm currently in my eighteenth season." Elia replied as she looked off to her right at the far wall.

"I had a feeling… Why do you stay here? Hasn't it been abandoned?" Astrid questioned once more as she shifted to get a look at the side of Elia's face.

"Yes. This sanctuary has been abandoned for nearly twenty seasons. My parents were the last of the assassins who kept this sanctuary running. There were still contracts coming in up until five seasons ago, when it was easier to send a message to the city leaders of our provinces, which I believe you call Holds in Skyrim." Elia replied as she fidgeted with the buttons on her uniform.

Astrid could feel her heart breaking. If her daughter became anything like this, so depressed and disassociated with even the slightest inkling of the outside world, it could possibly kill her. The mother in her wanted so badly to hug this young girl before her, to help her regain herself in a way that her own mother obviously had not. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat and looked back at the young woman before her.

"How do you live Elia?" She finally asked after a slight pause between them.

"I offer my services to the highest bidder. I no longer follow the Tenants anymore, as they are no longer essential. There is no listener in the Brotherhood anymore, and our connection with the Night Mother was severed years ago, but I've been keeping myself busy with the occasional dignitary that needs an opponent stabbed to death." Elia replied casually as she leaned into the back of her chair.

"I may need to lay low here for a bit. Mind a little help around the sanctuary? I could help you recruit some new members to keep the coin flowing." Astrid commented as she looked over at Elia once more.

"Well… If you want to stay, I guess I have no qualms against it. Running a sanctuary is hard when you're a lone assassin." She replied with a small smirk as she looked over at Astrid once more.

"Then I think we'll get started now." Astrid replied as she stood from her chair and made her way down another hallway that led to a set of bedrooms and bunk areas.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Markus stood near the dragon before him, it's blood red scales glistening in the sunlight that shimmered in on the patio. It twisted its head angrily, powerful legs kicking out at the stones below its feet, growls escaping from its throat as it stared Markus down.

"Insolent mortal!" It hissed; steam escaping from its flaring nostrils.

"Odahviing, Paarthurnax intended for you to take me to Skuldafn, and I intend to go." Markus explained as he looked into the russet dragon's eyes.

"You are unworthy of a battle with the World Eater. I will not take you to Skuldafn." Odahviing replied, eyes boring into Markus' own.

"I think the promise of freedom in exchange for a ride to Skuldafn is a fair trade. Wouldn't you agree Odahviing?" Markus asked; finger and thumb framing his chin as he looked out towards the blue sky, just above Odahviing's trap.

The dragon thought for a moment. Freedom in exchange for this mortal going towards his death sounded quite promising. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he would want to deal with Alduin's wrath if it were known that he had helped this human gain access to their most sacred hideout in the mountains. To be quite honest though, he truly didn't care what Alduin thought about his choices; let the World Eater be mad for a century or two. They were essentially ageless, and had ruled over man and mer for millennia. As the children of Akatosh, they were as close to Gods as mere mortals could get. His mind made up within that moment of thought, Odahviing once more brought his large head over to the mortal man before him.

"To a Dovah, freedom to fly is a gift we cannot be without… For that reason alone, I will take you to Skuldafn." He finally spoke, gaining Markus' full attention as he spoke, though the tongue of men was sour on his maw.

"Then it is decided." Markus replied before turning on his heel and making his way up the adjacent staircase to a pully system that stood on the pillar just behind Odahviing's view.

Within moments he felt the heavy wood pull from his neck, and in an instant, he was turned around and heading towards the open area of the balcony. As he reached said area, he paused and looked over his back at the small man that followed closely behind him. Markus made his way to stand next to the large dragon's wings, gazing out over the vast landscape that graced the view of Dragonsreach.

"I warn you Dovahkiin, once you have tasted what it means to fly, you will forever shun your human body." Odahviing remarked as he bent his head low to look at Markus at eye-level.

"It is a sacrifice I am willing to take. We should be off." Markus replied as he looked into the large eye to his right.

Odahviing growled low in his throat before bending his neck low to the ground for Markus to climb aboard. Markus did as offered and within moments Odahviing flapped his great wing, and the two of them were soon airborne. Markus gazed over Odahviing's neck and marveled at how small the landscape became beneath them. Odahviing could feel the slight movement against his scales and shifted slightly to allow Markus a better view.

"Look to the horizon Dovahkiin. That is our destination." He growled out as he began the flight towards the secret ruin of Skuldafn.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aela paced through the lower level of Hjerim. She had seen the glint of red scales as she was shopping with the children earlier, but tried to pay it no mind. Markus was dealing with the dragon threat as best as he could, and she knew her mate would always make sure that she and the pups were okay. But now her mind was racing. Markus had not sent a single message within the last two days, and she was beginning to fear for his safety. She had tried to call out to him with their shared mental connection, but even than had gone unanswered. Her nerves were wracked, and she knew that Dengen could feel her worry. Thinking of their young son, he suddenly appeared from the staircase.

"Momma…" He called, voice groggy with sleep, though considering that he'd just woken from a nap could explain it. Aela turned on her heel and looked down at her son.

"Dengen, sweetheart, when did you wake up?" She asked as she scooped him up into her arms.

"When Faith started to cry…" He mumbled as he nestled into his mother's warm neck.

Aela hadn't even heard Faith utter a single cry, and suddenly found herself listening intently to the sounds of the house. Sure enough, she could hear the infant's muffled whimpers from the floor above. She began the ascent to the upper floor and turned back towards her and Markus' bedroom. Sure enough, Faith was squirming in her crib and whimpering beneath her small fur blanket. Aela gently kissed Dengen and placed him on her bed before making her way over to the crib and gathering Faith in her arms. The poor girl quieted down almost immediately when she was lifted from the blankets. Rocking her back and forth in her arms, Aela turned back to look at Dengen.

"Are you hungry pup?" She asked as she slowly made her way over to him.

Stifling a yawn, Dengen slowly nodded his head at her and hopped off the bed. The three of the made their way downstairs, only to be greeted by the sight of Vilkas standing in the doorway. Aela was slightly startled, but gained her composure and went to meet her Shield-Brother. She embraced him around Faith, who was now cuddled against her chest.

"Markus still hasn't returned?" Vilkas asked as he and Aela separated.

"No, and I am beginning to worry. He hasn't sent a messenger or a link connection. But I cannot lose faith in him just because he hasn't sent a letter." Aela conceded as she snuggled Faith slightly closer to her body.

"For all we know, he could be fighting that blasted bird Alduin." Vilkas chuckled as he reached over to ruffle Dengen's hair as he appeared behind his mother.

Aela chuckled, knowing that Vilkas was probably right, even though she knew that he was only trying to make her feel better about Markus and his quest. Still, he did make the journey from Whiterun to Windhelm, and just his presence brought her pacing and worrying to an end. The four of them made their way into the kitchen adjacent to the entryway of the house, where Vilkas propped Dengen into a chair, and gladly took Faith from Aela. Vilkas, though he'd never admit it, was very good with children. Dengen adored his uncle Vilkas and uncle Farkas, and the feeling was certainly reciprocated. Farkas and Vilkas had been told of Faith's parents, and how she came to be in the care of Markus and Aela, and they gladly considered her one of their own. And if Aela thought that Faith was only calm and quiet with her and Markus, she had surely been mistaken, as Faith soon fell into a peaceful slumber in her uncle's arms. Aela smiled at the sight, and noticed that Dengen was now fully awake, and so began to make him a small plate of chicken eggs and pheasant roast. As she began to prepare the meal, there was a heavy knock at the door. At the sound, she could feel her throat tighten and her heart clench painfully in her chest. Vilkas, picking up the scent of his Shield-Sister's sudden grip of fear, stood from the chair, placed Faith gently back into Aela's arms, and made his way to the front door. He pulled the door open to reveal a young messenger, who carried a small sack in his hands. He looked up at Vilkas, asked if Aela lived there, and produced a letter that was meant to be given to her. Vilkas answered the young man stating that Aela did in fact live there, and that he would be sure that she got the letter. He retrieved the items from the young man and closed the door gently before making his way back into the kitchen, where he handed Aela the small sack and letter in exchange for Faith.

Without a second thought, Aela ripped open the wax seal on the letter and began to read.

"My moonlight,

I am well, and will hopefully soon be done with this quest and on my way to return to you. I hope that this letter finds you and the pups well. Of course, in the small sack is a gift for you, and I do hope that you will wear it for my homecoming. I thought that it would match the forest of your eyes perfectly.

Also, there is a lump of coin to be used however you see fit, either for a trip to the market, or to pay the rogues for their protection. Whichever works best for you.

I do not know what lies ahead for this battle, but hopefully it is the last one that I partake in so that I may spend my time with you.

See to it that Dengen and Faith receive my love as well, and of course I am thinking of you in my dreams.

With love and regards,

Markus"

She could feel the lump in her throat swell with her tears. He was alive, and safe, and hopefully would be home with them soon. She shuddered out a sigh and turned towards the table to place the small sack down to open. Inside was, of course, the lump of coin that he had said would be there. However, her attention was drawn to a small lump wrapped in paper. Pulling it from the sack, she gently pulled the paper back to reveal a gold necklace with a sapphire pendent notched in the center of a larger gold pendent. Her heart beat fiercely in her chest as she pulled the gift from the paper and held it out in front of her. Dengen looked at the piece, eyes wide with curiosity, before gaining his mother's attention.

"Who's that from momma?" He asked, pointing at the necklace.

"It's from your dad. A present for me." She replied as she gently clasped it around her neck, letting the pendent fall gently against her chest.

"Will he be home soon?" Dengen asked as he turned his head towards the window across from him. Aela gently ran her fingers though his ebony hair.

"He'll be home soon, my love. He'll be home soon." She soothed, placing a gentle kiss to the top of Dengen's head.

With that, she made her way back over to the oven and continued to cook. The four of them settled in quite nicely to a quick breakfast before Vilkas would have to trade off with his brother for the next round of their guard. He did, however, take the sack of coins in order to pay the rogues for their continued service to the small family, as Aela had asked him to. Excusing herself from the table, she brought Dengen to his room down the hall and made sure that he was occupied with either a wooden sword, a book, or a toy, before she made her way back upstairs with Faith. She sat down on the edge of their bed and made sure that Faith was firmly latched to her breast to feed. Stroking the infant girl's hair back from her eyes, she gently began to hum a soft lullaby as she looked out of their bedroom window and to the cloudy sky above.

"Be safe, my love. I'll be waiting for you." She whispered during a pause in her melody.

As Faith pulled away from her breast, she burped her and gently placed her back in her crib for a nap. After a moment of fussing, Faith finally closed her eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep. Aela kissed her forehead and then made her way back downstairs to spend some time with Dengen, who immediately asked her to read him a story. They spent the remainder of the day together, with Aela only having to go upstairs twice for a feeding and a changing. Still, Markus invaded her mind. And in her final thoughts of the night, she prayed to Hircine to keep him safe.


	9. Dragonslayer

The sound of steel meeting scales was the first thing that permeated his senses, followed by the bellow of a Thu'um he recalled hearing only once before. At Helgen, as his head was placed upon the chopping block, after a Stormcloak soldier had already been executed. He'd tried to tell them who he was, who his father was, but the Imperial Legate refused to listen, and her soldier sent him towards the block. The smell of fire brought his sense of smell back, and suddenly he was flooded with adrenaline. Eyes shooting open, Markus sprang to his feet, and, with air back in his lungs, he rejoined Felldir, Gormlaith, and Hakon who stood before Alduin, shielding the last Dragonborn behind wards, shields, and blades. As Markus rose to his feet, the trio of warriors nodded to him before running full on against the hulking dragon before them. Markus swung his sword heavily, lodging it into Alduin's chest, yet failing to puncture the dragon's hide. Gormlaith and Hakon, being the only other warriors at his side, both drove their blades towards Alduin's throat, catching the World-Eater by surprise. Felldir was able to cast a healing spell on Markus as he drove his sword further with each swing, gaining ground and momentum towards the World-Eater as his emotions took further hold of him.

Markus thought of Aela, safely at home with Dengen and Faith, probably sitting with Vilkas, who Dengen thought so highly of, wishing he could one day be as his father and unofficial uncle. He thought of Arnbjorn and Aela, traveling over various parts of Tamriel, nowhere near each other, and distancing further and further apart with each passing day, and further away from their daughter. He thought of his parents, Raiddin and Lielle, sitting in their home beneath the Jerall Mountains, reading letters from his siblings and himself, waiting for the day that they can meet their grandchildren in Skyrim. He thoughts of his sister, Eira, studying with the Mages in the Imperial City, honing her skills as both a healer and a battlemage. He thought of his brother, Raxas, and the strides he was making with the Fighter's Guild, making a name for himself as a skilled warrior, and perhaps lending his sword arm to a noble or two. With a new rage now boiling within him, Markus felt his canines elongate painfully as he focused on Alduin, and his swings progressed to become heavier, and yet more precise, finally allowing steel to meet scales. Blood soon began to spill from between Alduin's hide, and Markus could feel his rage peaking as he continued to hack into the World-Eater. He could hear the others behind him, shouting and filling the air with their own battle cries, but they soon fell away as he drove his blade into Alduin's throat.

\------------------------------------------------------------

It had been nearly two weeks since she'd gotten Markus' last letter, and almost two months prior to that. Aela knew that he'd been at High Hrothgar before his hasty departure to dismantle the World-Eater, but with each passing day, she grew even more concerned over his safety. Farkas and Vilkas had tried to help ease her mind by staying with her and the children for longer durations, even staying together with them, but Aela could not stop her constant pacing and fidgeting. If it weren't for the fact that Faith desperately needed her to survive, Aela would have gone absolutely stir crazy over Markus' lengthy absence. Which was why she was currently resting against the headboard of their bed, Faith sleeping soundly in her arms, and Dengen curled up at her side. She had maneuvered herself to be able to hold Faith securely with her left arm, while wrapping her right arm gently around Dengen's body. Her two pups were with her, and that would have to be enough at the moment. She sighed heavily before the sound of footfalls on the landing brought her from her thoughts. Within moments, Vilkas popped his head around the door frame.

"Vilkas? I thought Farkas was staying this time around?" Aela questioned softly as she shifted herself slightly on the bed.

"He will. He's running a bit late, but I told him I would stay until he arrived. I didn't know if you were still awake, so I thought I'd check on you and the pups. I guess it wasn't really needed." Vilkas chuckled as he came through the doorway. Aela gave a small smile in return.

"It is certainly appreciated Vilkas. Thank you." She whispered as she adjusted Faith closer to her chest. Faith squirmed for just a moment before falling back into a restful sleep.

"You know, for werewolves, they sleep pretty soundly." Vilkas remarked as he looked between Faith and Dengen.

"Vilkas, they haven't yet tapped into that power yet. Once they do, say goodbye to this." Aela chuckled as she motioned towards both children with quick nods of her head. Vilkas merely chuckled at her response before Faith began to whimper in her sleep, breaking the peaceful moment.

Aela shifted the girl in her arms, causing Dengen to shift against her side and wake. His bleary eyes looked up towards his mother, focusing on her eyes. She looked from Faith and into her son's eyes. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, and then she shifted her head to look over at Farkas, who gathered Dengen for some sword practice, which Dengen happily accepted. As the two of them left the room, Aela once again focused on Faith, trying to sooth her as she squirmed and whimpered in her arms. A vision soon flashed in her mind as she smoothed back Faith's silver hair.

_Black wings, unfolding towards a purple sky. Fire and destruction, mist and wanderers. Steel flashed against black scales and red eyes. Crimson blood splashed to the ground as golden energy expelled from the large dragon before her. Within moments, the body disintegrated before her, leaving empty space before her. She was propelled back against a large stone, and her eyes caught sight of golden eyes shining through the mist as black smoke filtered in. She was once again brought back to the spot where those eyes were and could see Kodlak coming towards her from the dissipating mist; her heart clenched painfully at the sight of him. He was smiling, with life shimmering in his gray eyes. This was how she always wanted to remember him, and he was before her once again._

"Well done Markus." He spoke as he reached his arms out to grip her shoulders.

With his words, she was thrown back out of the vision and brought back to reality in Windhelm.

"Markus... Markus you did it." She whispered, eyes brimming with tears at the thought.

Faith immediately stopped squirming within moments of Aela coming back from the vision, and Aela looked down at her with a small smile. She brought Faith up towards her and kissed her forehead.

"You amaze me little one. Only you could have shared that vision with me." Aela whispered as she gently rocked Faith against her chest.

Faith yawned in response before slowly opening her soft green eyes. She gazed up at Aela, and broke out into soft giggles, reaching her hands up towards Aela. Aela laughed as she brought Faith towards her once again, placing gentle kisses upon her cheeks and forehead. She lowered Faith towards her chest once again and just stared at the young one with a smile that would go unmatched.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Markus approached Tsun after the battle against Alduin, and found him smiling with relief on his face. They conversed for mere moments before Markus asked to be sent back to Skyrim, all with fond memories renewed of his time with Kodlak. Tsun obliged, and Markus was hit by his shout. His vision was blurry as light returned to them, and when his vision cleared, he found himself on the Throat of the World with Paarthurnax looking down at him from his word wall. The elder dragon had concern etched into his expression, but he looked down upon Markus with a relief that he did not die amid Alduin's terror.

"So, it is done. _Alduin dilon_. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others, and has always been." Paarthurnax spoke, his voice low in his throat. Markus looked at him with confusion.

"Have I done wrong, Paarthurnax?" Markus questioned as he looked up towards the elder dragon.

" _Krosis Dovahkiin_. You did what was necessary. Alduin had flown far from the path of right action in his _pahlok_ \- the arrogance of his power. _Alduin wahlaan daanii_. His doom was written when he claimed for himself the lordship that properly belongs to _Bormahu_ \- our father Akatosh." Paarthurnax explained as his gaze shifted between Markus and the sky above the mountain.

"Yet... You seem distant about Alduin's defeat. I do not sense regret in your voice, but perhaps disappointment? A frustration about this whole situation perhaps?" Markus prodded, stepping forwards towards Paarthurnax.

"Perhaps, but _Zu'u tiiraaz ahst ok mah_. He was my brother once." Paarthurnax lamented, bringing his massive head back towards Markus.

"I understand." Was all Markus could say.

He had been studying the Draconic language for the past three years with the Greybeards. He'd understood everything that Alduin had said to him in Sovngarde. He understood everything that Paarthurnax was saying to him now. He felt sorrow beside his Thu'um mentor, and he knew that this would never have been a celebratory thing to Paarthurnax anyways. He could relate to his desire not to destroy his brother, Markus certainly couldn't bring himself to kill Raxas anymore than Paarthurnax could to killing Alduin. He reached forward and gently placed his palm against Paarthurnax's snout, feeling the heat and age beneath his scales. They stood that way for only a moment before Markus retracted his hand.

" _Rok funta koraav_. Perhaps now you have some insight into the forces that shape the _vennesetiid_... the currents of Time. But I forget myself. _Krosis. So los mid fahdon_. Melancholy is an easy trap for a dovah to fall into. You have won a mighty victory. _Sahrot krongrah_ \- one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, Dovahkiin. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time." Paarthurnax spoke with wisdom in his voice.

Markus stood there and contemplated Paarthurnax's words before looking back at the elder dragon once again, nodding his head with a smile. Paarthurnax nodded as well, and with a flap of his great wings, he took to the sky and hovered above the ground.

" _Goraan!_ I feel younger than I have in many an age." Paarthurnax's voice held a sense of joy that Markus had assumed the elder hadn't felt in quite some time. "Many of the dovah are now scattered across _Keizaal_. Without Alduin's lordship, they may yet bow to the _vahzen_... rightness of my Thu'um."

"I cannot think of a better leader or teacher." Markus called as he gazed up at Paarthurnax.

"But willing or no, they will hear it! Fare thee well, Dovahkiin!" Paarthurnax called before ascending, circling the top of the mountain, and then heading east towards Morrowind.

The other dragons that had gathered at the top of the mountain also took their leave, following Paarthurnax's example by traveling to other areas of Tamriel in search of the newly freed followers of Alduin. Markus stood at the word wall until the last of the dragons left, shifting from one foot to the other, before red scales landed next to him. He looked over at Odahviing, a smile playing at his lips. The crimson dragon bowed his head slightly towards Markus.

" _Pruzah wundunne wah Wuth Gein_. I wish the Old One luck in his... quest. But I doubt many will wish to exchange Alduin's lordship for the tyranny of Paarthurnax's 'Way of the Voice.' As for myself, you've proven your mastery twice over. _Thuri, Dovahkiin_. I gladly acknowledge the power of your Thu'um. _Zu'u Odahviing_. Call me when you have need, and I will come if I can." Odahviing commented as he looked between Markus and the remaining dragons that flew off overhead.

"I gladly accept your offer, Odahviing." Markus voiced as he looked at Odahviing. "Would it be too much to ask if I could get a ride back to Windhelm?" He inquired as he looked into Odahviing's eye.

"Krosis. No Dovahkiin, it would not." Odahviing responded before lowering his head and spreading his left wing onto the ground, granting Markus permission to mount his neck.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Aela busied herself in the kitchen, preparing food for Dengen and herself, when Vilkas walked in through the door. She looked over her shoulder and called him into the kitchen.

"Thought I smelled something good." He chuckled as he took a deep whiff of the elk roast on the spit.

"Figured you might be hungry." She laughed as she turned back to dicing carrots and potatoes.

"Well, only if there's enough to go around." Vilkas replied, taking a seat next to Dengen and the table.

Aela chuckled to herself as she kept ever mindful of the knife in her hand, carefully dicing in preparation for the stew she was going to make with the elk haunch. Lunch was ready within the hour, and while the boys ate, Aela occupied her thoughts with Faith in her arms, rocking the young pup after feeding her, away from the boys of course. She listened intently to Dengen going on about how badly he wanted to be versed in swordsmanship like his father, and how he couldn't wait to get started. She watched her baby with love and pride, knowing that, one day, he would accomplish all that he set his heart to; just like Markus. So busy with her thoughts, she didn't even blink when the front door opened, but chuckled and said that there was food in the kitchen.

"Love, that's not what I want now." The voice replied, and she snapped her head up to look at the newcomer.

"Markus? Is it you?" She questioned hastily as she stood from the chair and made her way over to him.

"Of course it is She-wolf." He replied, cupping her cheek in his hand.

She leaned affectionately into his touch, and he gently wrapped her in his arms, mindful of Faith cradled in Aela's arms. Aela wrinkled her nose at the smell of smoke and death, but amongst those scents, she also found Kodlak's, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Markus brushed it away with his thumb, and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing. He showed her images of his battle with Alduin, the three ancient hero's who aided him in battle, and of Tsun testing his mettle at the Whale Bone Bridge. As the images slowly played in her mind, the image of Kodlak walking up to Markus and taking his shoulders in his hands played once more, just like it had when she had first seen it.

_"Well done lad. You've saved our souls from Alduin's hunger." Kodlak spoke as he looked Markus in the eyes._

_"What else was a Harbinger to do Kodlak." Markus chuckled as he returned Kodlak's gaze._

_"Yes, and you've done a fine job thus far as the Harbinger. But tell me lad, how is Aela?" Kodlak asked with concern beginning to color his speech._

_"She's been well. Though you never got to meet them, the children are also doing well. Our boy Dengen will make a fine Companion one day." Markus beamed with pride as he spoke of his boy. "And our adopted daughter Faith will also have that opportunity. She'll be a strong warrior one day." He concluded with the biggest smile Kodlak had ever seen from him._

_"I'd expect nothing less of your children." Kodlak concluded, returning Markus' smile with one of his own. "But, I do think you're missed, and I'd like to take my place in Shor's Hall. Give Aela and the children my best, and take care of them." Kodlak called as he made his way towards the Mead Hall of legend._

_"I will Kodlak!" Markus replied as he made his way towards Tsun._

Aela was positively glowing as the images ceased playing, and she looked up into Markus' eyes with the most heart warming smile he'd ever seen on her face.

"You've saved him again, my dear. He's finally where his soul has always wanted to go." Aela whispered as she looked deeply into her husband's eyes.

"Yes, and even in death, his soul was burning with his passion for life." Markus replied as he brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear.

"Papa!" Dengen yelled happily as he latched onto his father's leg.

"There's my pup! Did you have fun with momma and your uncles Farkas and Vilkas?" Markus asked as he scooped Dengen up into his arms.

Dengen went on to describe, in great deal, the time he'd spent with his mother and uncles. He recounted tales of sword training, archery with his mother in the small nook behind the house, bedtime stories told to him by all three, and days spent snuggling in with his mother and sister. Markus listened intently, even chuckling, as Dengen told him story upon story. So when he was asked about his time away, Markus returned his son's enthusiasm with his own, and told him all about his battle with Alduin, and the new friends he made with warriors from a time long before their own. Dengen was awestruck as he listened to his father, and even paid close attention to every detail his father told him of Sovngarde, even down to the smallest patch of flowers. He told him stories of his adventures well into the night, and within that time, Dengen finally began falling asleep. Markus tucked him in and said goodnight before making his way upstairs to the master bedroom. Aela was sitting on the bed, back to the headboard, feeding Faith before she would be ready to be put down to sleep. Markus climbed into bed next to her, and pulled her close to his body, feeling her skin against his own. He placed kisses on her shoulders and neck, teasing her skin with his breath, and waited patiently for her to burp Faith and put her in her crib before focusing all of her attention back on him. They had an incredibly passionate night to make up for lost time, and in the morning, Aela and Markus cooked breakfast for the first time in months together, and neither of them had ever felt so much happiness in the last few years, excluding Dengen's birth and Faith's adoption of course. They all enjoyed their meal together before Markus made his way outside with Dengen to make up some of their sword training that he'd missed out on. Aela watched them from the doorway, smiling as Markus taught Dengen some new stances to make his blade swing easier with his body.


End file.
